


Find Me

by ContrEeri



Series: Make Me Live [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2018-11-07 16:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 51,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11062566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContrEeri/pseuds/ContrEeri
Summary: Gaara is like any other high school student, except he's nothing like every other high school student. He's the student body president, the creator of a support group for mentally ill teens, a tutor, a piano prodigy, and a complete loner. With no friends outside of estranged childhood friend and his siblings, Gaara has nothing getting in the way of him piling more and more work onto his plate to help him get into college and maybe land a decent scholarship. His life is organized and full, but he's sure it's everything he wants and needs. Nothing is missing, and nothing could possibly upset the balance he's created--nothing except for, perhaps, tutoring Rock Lee.





	1. Sit Back and Go With the Flow

**Author's Note:**

> I'm apparently incapable of focusing on only one thing at a time right now, so instead I'm finally gonna just start posting this. It's just meant to be something fun and light, and I hope everyone enjoys it. I've been single-minded in my determination to fill specific tropes that I haven't seen done, and because of an ask on tumblr ages ago I'm starting with the classic high school AU. I know this is not one that has gone unrepressented, but well it _is_ a classic and i’ve had this idea for a long time... 
> 
> The title of this fic is pulled from Queen's Somebody to Love, which has made me think of Gaara and Lee for at least the last 7 years and I have been dying to write a fic referencing that song for them. 
> 
> Edit 10/24/18: So I have officially decided that there will be a sequel (and possible side stories), thus this is now part one of the Make Me Live series, the title of which comes from the Queen song ["You're My Best Friend"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wAsPu-FTBsw).

_I work hard (he works hard) every day of my life_  
I work till I ache in my bones  
At the end (at the end of the day)  
I take home my hard earned pay all on my own  
I get down (down) on my knees (knees)  
And I start to pray  
Till the tears run down from my eyes  
Lord somebody (somebody), ooh somebody  
(Please) can anybody find me somebody to love?  
-Queen, _Somebody to Love_

 

Gaara held the flier up to the notice board, a sizable stack of papers slipping from under his arm as he tried to pin the flier to the board one-handed. The stack cascaded down his side, the cool spring breeze scattering the papers all around. He cursed under his breath, sticking the lone flier he held to the board before turning to the now free-flying papers all around. 

This was only the first stop on his trip to the other high schools in the district and if he ran out of the fliers before he even got started then he'd have wasted an entire afternoon. Not to mention the money on printing the fliers. He didn't want to think about having to re-print the lot, so he quickly set to work chasing them down. They had flown all over, rolling and flying out across the grassy fields of Konoha High, forcing Gaara to run after them. 

He hated running. 

He stopped, clutching the stitch in his side with several fliers crunched in his hand. He'd made a hundred fliers—probably overkill, but it was enough to post twenty-five fliers at the four other schools in his area—he currently held five. No one was ever going to see his fliers now, except maybe the janitors of Konoha High.

“Did you need some help?” a cheerful voice said behind him. Shouted, really. Were all Konoha students that loud? 

Gaara turned, his eyes narrowed at the loud young man behind him. “Please,” he practically bit off, ruder than he'd intended to be in his frustration. 

Before he could offer up an apology for his tone the loud but helpful student was off, running swiftly around the grassy field and picking up every flier that hadn't already flown out of sight. It didn't take long for him to return to Gaara, who was staring in dumbfounded awe. He held out the stack of wayward fliers, a brilliant smile on his face. 

“I think some of them may have gotten wet,” the young man said, holding them out. 

Gaara took them, appraising the other student. “Thank you.” 

“Would you like some help putting them up?” 

Gaara stared. “I don't want to trouble you.” 

“Oh, it is no trouble! Really! I would be more than happy to assist you in your task. I am Rock Lee. Please call me Lee,” he added, sticking his hand out. Gaara ignored the extended hand—he didn't like touching people. 

“Gaara,” he replied.

“Gaara?” Lee repeated, meeting Gaara's gaze in a way most people never did, apparently uncaring of the fact that his outstretched hand had gone ignored. “Well, Gaara-san, if you would like assistance I would be happy to offer mine.” 

As much as Gaara did not want the company—especially not of someone so painfully loud—he had to admit that it would make the process of posting fliers around the school much faster. He'd already wasted time chasing after the damn things, and now he was at least fifteen minutes behind schedule. He still had to drive to Iwa High, Kiri Prep, and Kumo Academy before he was done with this errand; and after that he needed to go home to a mountain of homework, plus plan the next student council meeting and organize things for the support group he'd started on campus for students with mental illness. All in all, he really didn't have the luxury of saying no. 

“If you insist.” 

Lee beamed. 

How anyone could have such white teeth was beyond Gaara and he didn't return the smile. He counted out twelve fliers and handed them to Lee. “If you could place these around your school—”

“Tutoring?!” Lee practically vibrated as he read over the page. 

“Yes,” Gaara said, trying not to snap. After all, Lee was being helpful; it would be rude of Gaara to express distaste for Lee's exuberance under the circumstances. He rather wished his sister were here, she was so much better at dealing with people. 

“Wow! You must be really smart,” Lee said, his large eyes going somehow wider as he looked over the list of subjects Gaara offered tutoring in. “Math? Oh, this is perfect! I am terrible at math! Would you be willing to tutor me?” 

Gaara wanted to say no. He wanted to say it was a typo. That it wasn't supposed to say math, he'd printed out the wrong copy of his flier. But he did need the job. He had college to think about and he had no interest in riding on the coattails of his father's legacy. He couldn't afford to be picky. 

“I suppose. What level are you?” 

“Oh,” Lee blushed, looking away. “Remedial. I am _very_ bad at math,” he stressed. 

“I see,” Gaara said, trying not to roll his eyes. 

Lee shuffled his feet, the energy he'd exhibited earlier gone. “I mean, if it is too much trouble—I am sure that it must seem like a waste to tutor someone in remedial math...” 

“It's fine,” Gaara said, gentler than before. “I don't mind. If you help me get these up I'll even do your first session free.” 

Gaara didn't know what had possessed him to offer such a thing, but the words had already been spoken. He couldn't take them back now and Lee was beaming, his smile so wide it made Gaara's cheeks hurt in sympathy. 

“That is so kind of you!” Lee said. 

He was probably the first person in Gaara's life to ever call him kind. He certainly wasn't cruel—not these days—but he would hardly call himself kind.

Gaara ignored the compliment, turning from Lee. “My contact info is on the flier. Feel free to text me at your earliest convenience.” 

He didn't stick around for Lee to say more nice things about him. He rushed away from Lee, making his way to his car and completely forgetting about the other half of the fliers he'd meant to post around the campus. 

***

“—not even the worst part!” Temari was saying from the kitchen when Gaara arrived home, later that night. 

Kankurou grumbled. “No kidding.” 

“Shut up,” Temari snapped. “He lives in the same building as me! On the same floor. Kankurou, I have to see that smug bastard's face every day.” 

Gaara entered the kitchen to find his siblings sitting down to dinner with boxes of take-out between them on the kitchen table. 

“So? Just ignore him. You're good at that. Remember that time—oh, hey, Gaara. You're home late.” 

“Had to put up fliers for tutoring,” he explained. 

“I'd thought you were going to be here sooner. I've gotta head back soon,” Temari said, turning in her seat. “I haven't seen you since I started school. I'd hoped we could catch up.” 

“Another time, perhaps,” Gaara said. “I have a lot of work to do.” 

Temari shook her head. “Well, at least eat something. Just cause I'm off at college doesn't mean I'm gonna let you starve.” 

“I can fend for myself,” Gaara said, only slightly annoyed. He'd missed Temari. She hadn't been by for two weeks, too busy getting settled into her dorm room and starting classes at her new school. 

“I know, I just worry.” 

“Anyway,” Kankurou said. “Why'd it take so long to put those fliers up?” 

“I went to the other schools in the district,” Gaara said simply. “And I dropped the entire stack while putting the first one up at Konoha.” 

Kankurou grumbled around a mouthful of food, but Gaara was no longer paying attention. His phone had started vibrating and he quickly pulled it out. Few people ever called him and he didn't recognize the number, but it was from somewhere in the area. Lee came to mind immediately and he had to resist the urge to ignore the call. He sighed, answering his phone.

“Hello.” 

“Hello! Is this Gaara-san? This is Rock Lee! I met you earlier today at school and you had agreed to tutor me so I thought I would call you right away! I am sorry to call at such a late hour. I did not get home until just now, you see, and—”

Lee talked as fast as he'd run around the field while picking up the fliers earlier. It was too much for Gaara to take in all at once. 

“Lee,” he said, interrupting him, "could you hold for a moment?” 

“Oh! Oh, of course, I can!” 

Gaara rolled his eyes, pressing the mute button and turning to his siblings. “I'll be right back.” 

“Who's Lee?” Kankurou called after him as he made his way to his room. 

He quickly closed the door behind him, settling in at his desk and pulling out his day planner. He pressed the mute button again. “Lee.” 

“Yes! I am still here!” Lee enthused. “I am so sorry if I called at a bad time. I should have realized that eight o'clock would be much too late!” 

“It's fine,” Gaara said simply. “Did you want to set up a date to start tutoring?” 

“Absolutely! Do you have any preference?” 

“I'm busy Wednesdays from three to seven,” Gaara said. “And I have student council meetings every Monday from three to four.” 

“You sound very busy!” Lee said, impressed. “You are on the student council? I did not realize! My good friend and rival is on the student council! Do you know Neji?” 

“I don't attend your school,” Gaara said flatly. He'd thought that would have been obvious given the uniform Gaara was wearing, but apparently Lee had missed that. “I'm the student council president at Suna Academy.” 

There was a long pause. “Oh, I—I did not realize. I am so sorry for my mistake.” 

“It's fine.” Gaara was already more annoyed with Lee than he cared to admit. He would need to practice patience if he was ever going to tutor Lee. “What days work for you?” 

“Well,” Lee said slowly, “I have track Mondays and Wednesdays—which works out since you are busy those days—but I have Kung Fu Tuesdays through Saturdays. Perhaps after Kung Fu on Friday? Or perhaps not Friday! I am sure you must be very popular at your school and spend Friday night out with friends. Perhaps Sundays, then? I am free on Sundays.” 

Gaara wrote a note in for Sunday. “Sundays work. Would you like to start this Sunday?” 

“Please, if that is not too much trouble. I am already behind in my class and we have only been back at school for a week!” 

“Let's meet at two at the library in the center of town.” Surely Lee would have to be quieter in a library, Gaara thought. 

“That sounds wonderful!” Lee all but shouted. “I will see you then, Gaara-san! Thank you very much for taking the time to tutor me! I sincerely appreciate it and promise to be the best student I can be!” 

“I'm sure you will be,” Gaara said shortly and hung up. 

*

The next week seemed to fly by. 

Gaara went from class to class, his workload growing each day; he went to the first student council meeting of the year; he attended the counseling group he had organized at the start of his high school career; he went to piano practice, and he'd set up even more tutoring sessions. He'd kept it to five, but was starting to regret even that much. It was just a good thing he had difficulty sleeping, otherwise he might never get anything done. He still had to be careful though. He'd worked hard to maintain a regular sleep schedule after years of struggling with insomnia. He couldn't let his work ruin that.

His first tutoring session was with an old friend—his only friend, in fact—Uzumaki Naruto, who Gaara hadn't seen since middle school. That had been a dark time for Gaara—in many ways for Naruto, too—and Gaara did not like to think about it too much. Nor their subsequent estrangement after only a few short months of friendship. 

Naruto was just as loud and obnoxious as Gaara had remembered, but it was nice to see him even if by the end of the tutoring session he was annoyed at the lack of work they'd managed to get done. Naruto had insisted he needed help with his literature class, but then proceeded to talk the entire time, ignoring Gaara's attempts at getting him to focus on the reading.

He was heavily considering dropping Naruto from his roster. If he had to hear about Uchiha Sasuke one more time he was liable to hit Naruto over the head with the text book. 

After Naruto, there was tutoring a younger student from his school who spent the entire session blushing and avoiding his gaze; then there was a student from Iwa who Gaara didn't mind so much because she worked hard and kept her distance and didn't talk too much; and finally there was a student from Kiri who called him the next day to say he couldn't afford the tutoring sessions after all. All in all, by the time Sunday rolled around, Gaara was ready for a day off. 

Nonetheless, he arrived for his appointment with Lee exactly fifteen minutes early, his satchel filled with math books that might help Lee on his way to understanding the subject. 

Lee was apparently a punctual person too, because he was already there when Gaara arrived. 

For whatever reason, Lee was doing push-ups on the library steps. Gaara wondered just how long he'd been waiting and why anyone would do push-ups there of all places. 

“Lee,” he said. Lee jumped in the air so swiftly, with the grace and agility of a cat, that it took Gaara by surprise. 

“Gaara-san!” Lee greeted, slightly red in the face. “I did not expect you for another fifteen minutes!” 

“I like to arrive early.” 

Lee gave him a thumbs up. “That is excellent! I, too, value being early. My sensei always says 'the early bird catches the worm'!” 

“I see,” Gaara said flatly. “Let's get inside.” 

The quicker they were inside, the quicker Lee would be quiet Gaara reasoned. 

Once inside, Gaara learned that Lee did not, in fact, know how to be quiet. The best whisper Lee could manage carried all around and they were thrown out only five minutes after arriving. Gaara felt a headache building behind his eyes. 

“I am so sorry, Gaara-san! I did not realise I was being so loud! Perhaps there is somewhere else we could go? I mean, if it is not too much trouble. I would not mind if we went to my home. Or even the doujou! I am sure Gai-sensei would not mind if we used it for the honorable pursuit of knowledge!” 

Gaara's headache was getting worse. He sat down, rubbing his temples. 

“Are—are you all right?” 

“I have a headache.” 

Lee knelt down beside him, his voice dropping to the whisper he hadn't been able to manage inside. “Oh, dear. Perhaps today is not the best day for this. I do not mind if we postpone this until next Sunday.” 

Gaara looked up, finding Lee far too close for his liking. He quickly scooted away, putting a respectable distance between them. “That's a good idea.” 

Lee beamed. “Wonderful! Then I will see you next Sunday at two? Let me write down my address!” 

Before Gaara could protest, Lee had opened his backpack and taken out a notebook. He scrawled the information down, sticking the tip of his tongue out in concentration as he wrote, and then tore the paper from his book and handed it to Gaara with a smile on his face. How could he be so nice when surely this was an inconvenience for him? Hadn't Lee said that he was already behind? Feeling guilty, Gaara took the piece of paper, glancing down to see Lee's address written in a surprisingly neat and precise hand with a tiny doodle of a grinning turtle beside it. The words 'FEEL BETTER!' were written inside a speech bubble. 

Despite the headache he smiled as he pocketed the note.

***

By the second week of school, Gaara was swamped. 

It was almost a blessing that he still couldn't sleep before one in the morning, and it certainly helped that he didn't have a social life, otherwise he'd never get anything done. 

He didn't count tutoring sessions as socializing, of course. That was work, as much as anything else was. He lived and breathed work. It wasn't that he was particularly ambitious towards any career, it was simply that books made more sense to Gaara than people did. He supposed that had something to do with his childhood—being kept from other children for most of his formative years really hadn't helped him learn how to make friends. And in addition to the isolation imposed on him by his father, there was also trauma, which certainly wasn't helping matters.

He was often amazed he had even one friend, and really that had all happened by chance. 

In recent years, despite the difficulties he had socializing and his past reputation, there were people at his school who looked up to him for one reason or another: he'd tutored them, he was a good student council president, he was an exceptional pianist, and he'd formed the support group for mentally ill teens which he felt was his most significant contribution to the school. Sometimes he thought it might be nice to have friends, to go out on Friday nights instead of staying in, but then he thought about being in crowds of loud and excited teens, thought about being forced to be in physical contact with people and to have conversations, possibly even share personal information, to have people judging him and criticizing him for past misdeeds, and he felt his chest grow tight. 

He didn't need friends. He had his family, and he supposed in a way Naruto, though he'd called their friendship into question many times over the years. 

His siblings were a solid foundation for him, though. He didn't need more, he didn't want more, and he didn't have time for more. What little free time he did have he spent reading or playing the piano, and that was enough for him. 

He'd been telling himself this for years, and by now it was a believable enough lie that he'd forgotten it was a lie at all.

***

The piano's keys were cool to the touch. Gaara ran his fingers across the cool ivory, staring at the sheet music before him. It was far too early to be worrying about the final concert of the year, but this year was different; this year there was a scholarship award that Gaara desperately wanted. Tutoring wasn't terrible money, but it wasn't going to pay for a good college and Gaara did not want to go Kage University like Temari. He knew why she'd chosen it, but she could have done better if she hadn't been thinking about him and Kankurou. She could have gone to any top school in the country, even had her pick of a few abroad, but she'd accepted the scholarship to Kage U—a good school in its own right—because it was close to her brothers.

Gaara hoped that she would transfer once he was off to college. The thought that he was inadvertently holding his sister back made him feel guilty, but there was nothing he could say to change her mind. He'd already tried.

He wasn't going to stay here though. He loved his family, but he had every intention of getting out of this city and going to a top school. It didn't matter what he did, just so long as it wasn't here and it wasn't on his dead father's dime. 

It was why he was staring at the sheet music before him with the concert nearly a year away. It was a nice piece, but nice wasn't going to win him any awards, certainly not one worth quite so much. 

He let out a frustrated sigh. 

“This isn't good enough,” he muttered to himself before grabbing the sheet music and putting it back in his music notebook. He'd need to find something better, something worth playing, something that hadn't been played a hundred times by a hundred different high school students. 

He pressed down on the middle C key, closing his eyes and letting the note wash over him. There was a thunk as his cat jumped from the top of the piano, letting out an annoyed meow. 

Gaara took in a deep breath and began to play.

***

The weekend arrived with a mountain of homework. 

The final bell rang, signaling the end of school and the start of the weekend. Around Gaara, the other students shoved out of their seats, bags already packed so they could race to the doors. The chatter had started just before the bell, a steady hum like the buzzing of bees in a hive, but now it exploded, washing over him like waves crashing. Gaara clenched his hands in his lap, waiting for the storm to pass. 

Finally, he was the last person in the room save for their teacher. 

“Hurry up,” Baki-sensei called, his back to Gaara as he erased the board. 

Gaara grabbed his bag, but waited in his seat watching the second hand make another lap around the clock. He stayed in his seat until it had completed three circuits, then rose to his feet and walked from the room. 

Outside of his classroom, Kankurou was waiting for him, leaning up against the wall with his nose in a book. 

“Is that the play your teacher settled on?” Gaara asked by way of greeting. 

“Yup.” Kankurou pushed off the wall without looking up from his book, walking just behind Gaara. “I hate Shakespeare, though. It's too complicated.” 

“It's not that hard.” 

“Says you, the bookworm,” Kankurou said, reaching out and ruffling Gaara's hair. Gaara pulled away, glaring back at Kankurou. “I mean, I get it, ya know? He's the greatest playwright whoever lived, blah blah blah. What. _Ever._ I just don't see why she's always gotta have us do one of his plays every year.” 

“Which one are you doing?” 

“The most infamous one of all,” Kankurou said, rolling his eyes, and then, his voice high and grating,“'O' Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?'At least I got the best part.” 

“And who's that?” Gaara wondered.

“Mercutio, obviously. Jeeze, little brother, I thought you knew the play.” 

“I was just curious who you thought was the best character.” 

Kankurou snorted. “Who'd you think I was gonna say?” 

“Well, I certainly didn't think you were going to say Romeo,” Gaara told him, almost smiling. Kankurou threw his head back and laughed. 

“Temari would never let me live it down if I had to play Romeo. Ugh!” He pulled a face and shook his head. “Oh, but I did hear a couple of the girls bemoaning the fact that 'the hottest guy in school isn't in theatre'.” 

Gaara rolled his eyes. “I live to disappoint.” 

Again, Kankurou laughed. “I bet if you showed up to rehearsal one of these days they'd try to rope you in for practice.” Kankurou puckered his lips, making horrible smacking noises in Gaara's directions. 

“If you don't stop I'm going to tell Temari you auditioned for Romeo,” he threatened. 

Kankurou immediately stopped. “All right, all right. Anyway, I was thinkin' since Temari isn't gonna be around tonight for dinner we should just get some take-out.” 

“We did that last night,” Gaara pointed out.

“And we'll probably end up doin' it every night that Temari isn't home, so get used to it.” 

“As long as Father's money is being put to good use,” Gaara said dryly. 

Kankurou smirked. “When you put it like that, we are definitely ordering take-out every night for the next year.” 

“That can't be healthy.” 

Kankurou shrugged. “You can live off gizzard for a whole year without Temari complaining, think of it that way.” 

“Tempting,” Gaara said thoughtfully, “but she'll find out. She's only a couple miles away.” 

“Why do you ruin all of my dreams? Anyways, are you driving or am I?” 

“You drive,” Gaara said, digging for the keys in his pocket and tossing them to Kankurou. 

“All right, but that means I pick the music.” 

Gaara was on the verge of protesting when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glared after Kankurou who'd run ahead so he could get to the car first and put on the most horrible music he could find just to annoy Gaara. Rolling his eyes, he checked the notification on his phone. He had a missed call from Lee. 

He sighed, clicking the voicemail. 

“I am so sorry for calling you while you are in class, Gaara-san!” Lee's voice was loud enough through the speaker that Gaara didn't need to bring the phone to his ear. “I hope you do not have your volume up so that you do not get in trouble—oh, I really should have waited to call, but I had forgotten to ask if you have any food allergies! Please let me know as soon as you can! I hope you are feeling better and I look forward to our tutoring session this Sunday! If you have any trouble finding my apartment, please do not hesitate to call!” 

Gaara deleted the message, sighing. 

He hadn't forgotten about his tutoring session with Lee, he'd simply been pretending it didn't exist until he had to face the inevitable. Lee's message was like being violently woken from a good dream. Gaara didn't want to be uncharitable—after all, Lee had been nothing but nice to him so far—but it was difficult to be in his company. Lee was loud and excitable and far too earnest for Gaara. 

Of course, that wasn't the real reason Gaara was dreading Sunday. He could deal with Lee for a couple of hours; it was being in Lee's house that made him want to call Lee back to cancel. It was silly and unreasonable, so Gaara sent a quick text informing Lee that he didn't have allergies and that he would see him Sunday. 

With his fate sealed, Gaara caught up with Kankurou to be blissfully distracted by horrible music for the next twenty minutes on the drive home. 

***

Gaara never allowed anyone to come to his home—not just because of his own personal preferences, but for the safety of everyone: his cat, Shukaku, was a menace; a beast straight from the bowels of hell. Shukaku took no prisoners and left no one unharmed. 

It was one of the many reasons Gaara usually set up all tutoring sessions at the city's public library or one of the many school's in the area. He had never once set up a session at a person's house, though. It had never occurred to him to do so, and now that he was in the unfortunate position of being a guest in someone's home he realized that he absolutely, without a doubt did not want to be.

But he was committed. 

He sat outside of Lee's apartment building, gripping the steering wheel of his car for dear life, his knuckles gone white as he tried to control his breathing. It was just a tutoring session, he reminded himself. He was fine, this was work. There was nothing to worry about.

It took him twenty minutes of repeating this mantra over and over before his anxiety calmed to manageable levels, but eventually he reigned it in and with five minutes to spare. The walk up to Lee's apartment felt like he was walking to the gallows. Gaara forced the thought aside.

“Apartment eight,” he muttered, passing a door with a gold plated seven. He spotted the golden eight at the very end of the walk and approached it stony-faced. After the briefest of hesitations he knocked. 

There was a clatter, a squawk, and then the sound of feet pounding across the floor before the door was wrenched open with such force Gaara thought it might come right off its hinges. On the other side, Lee stood, flushed and smiling. 

“Hello!” he exclaimed, as loud and exuberant as Gaara remembered. 

“Hi,” he said flatly.

Lee was not deterred. “I am so happy you were able to find the place without any trouble,” he declared. “Please come in! I am sorry for the mess! I was in the middle of preparing snacks.” 

Gaara didn't see any mess as he entered, taking his shoes off and leaving them by the door. The small living room was as pristine as the entryway, and the only thing that Lee could possibly be talking about were the spilled carrots on the floor. Lee swooped down and picked them up, carrying them over to a large glass tank. 

“This is my pet tortoise, Ningame,” he explained, dropping the carrots into the tank. 

Gaara watched the little tortoise chomp at the carrots. "I have a cat named Shukaku," he said, and then berated himself for offering up the information unasked. “Did you want to work out here?” 

“A cat? That must be—oh, yes, I assumed this would be the best place. My room is not very big and neither is the kitchen. Please make yourself comfortable while I go grab more snacks.” 

“Don't trouble yourself,” Gaara said, setting his bag on the table. “I'm not hungry.” 

“If you are sure. But please let me know if you get hungry! I would hate to have you go hungry while you are here.” 

Gaara highly doubted that he was going to starve in the next two hours, but he nodded to appease Lee's need to be a good host. He settled in, taking books out of his bag as Lee took up a seat next to him, much closer than Gaara liked. He shifted, carefully putting a good bit of distance between them. 

“Is this your textbook?” he asked, pointing to the book that was sitting out next to a bowl of what looked like hummus. 

Lee nodded, grabbing the book. “Yes. And this is the homework I have been working on—well, trying to work on. As I said, I am a bit behind, but I spoke with Yuuhi-sensei about it. I told her that I was going to start tutoring and she said that as long as I was able to get caught up quickly she would accept late work. She is very kind to let me turn things in late, so I do not want to keep her waiting! I would hate for her to think I was taking advantage of her kindness.” 

Gaara nodded absently, flipping through the pages Lee had marked with sticky notes. Each note had an assignment written on it. 

“And here is my notebook. I have attempted to do each assignment, of course, but...” He blushed, looking away. “I know that I have not done any of them well.” 

Lee wasn't joking. To say he was bad at math was being nice; Lee was abysmal. 

Gaara had his work cut out for him. 

He pulled out his phone, sending his brother a quick text to let him know he was going to be home later than planned. 

“Did you have plans for today?” he asked, pressing the send button.

“Nope! Well, I would like to train at some point today—our first meet is in June, after all. But I can train whenever we are done.” 

“Good,” Gaara said. “This is going to take a while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is pulled from the song ["These Are the Days of Our Lives"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oB4K0scMysc) by Queen (if you're noticing a theme, good.)
> 
> Check out this art created by my friend, briannadoesotherjunk, based on the beginning of this chapter: [let gaara sleep 2018](https://brianadoesotherjunk.tumblr.com/post/169546250206/what-do-you-mean-this-isnt-exactly-what-happened)


	2. Life is Tough on Your Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaara is a busy high school student. He doesn't have time to socialize or to have "fun", and besides most people don't really like him. They admire him from afar--he has done some good things for his school, after all--but no one is actually his friend. No one wants to be friends with the anti-social kid with an unexplained tattoo on his forehead. It doesn't bother him, though. He has his work and his ambition, and he knows that even if they don't like him he has still helped his peers. That's enough for him... isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: this chapter deals a lot with mental illness including mentions of eating disorders, suicide, and self-harm, so please be aware of that when reading! It is a conversation, not a glorification of suicide and self-harm, and most (though not all) things are things I'm drawing from my own experiences with mental health. I've seen far too many fics in this fandom and others deal incredibly poorly with mental health issues, so I'd like to take this opportunity as a mentally ill person to approach these issues in this story.
> 
> Also, just a head's up: I made some minor changes to the first chapter. A few things have been more fleshed out now that I've been working on this and thinking about it regularly, so I made some adjustments and thought people might like to know. Anyway, enjoy!

Tutoring Lee had cut into Gaara's evening plans, which had consisted of finishing up his homework for the weekend and learning a new piece on the piano. Though he'd anticipated staying longer than the two hours he'd originally planned for, going four hours over did not leave him in a particularly good mood. He couldn't blame Lee, irritated as he was. He'd become so focused on the task, determined to get Lee to finally grasp the simple concept of variables, that he'd lost track of the time. One minute it had been three in the afternoon, the next it had been just past eight and he'd had five missed texts from Kankurou and three voice mails.

He'd left in a terrible mood, lightened only by the fact that Lee had insisted on paying for the extra time Gaara had spent tutoring him. If it hadn't been for Lee's earnest face and his wholehearted gratitude, Gaara would have dropped him from his tutoring roster. His schedule was far too full for him to spend six hours every week helping Lee with his math (especially given the thirty minute drive from his home to Lee's), and though Lee was ridiculously nice and had paid him well, if he didn't see improvement by the next session he wouldn't hesitate to drop him. 

He felt only slightly guilty for this. After all, he had his own classes to keep up with, not to mention all of his extracurricular activities and other tutoring obligations. In addition to all this, school events would be starting soon, and Gaara saw it as part of his duties as student council president to attend as many as he could. Suna Accademy's soccer team had already announced their first game of the season, and so had the basketball team and the swim team. 

By the end of the month he imagined his schedule would be far too full to allow for another accidental six hour tutoring session.

School the next day only proved that Gaara couldn't afford to waste any time. Every hour would be precious in the coming months as his classes intensified and his workload grew. 

“Pages fifty through one-fifty for homework, due Friday along with—at minimum—two pages of analysis. Remember, you'll be expected to write a full essay on this at the end of the reading, so it's best to take meticulous notes. By next week you'll decide on the topic of the essay, so be thinking about it as you read.” 

The bell rang, signaling the end of class and the beginning of the lunch period. Everyone rushed to pack their bags and make for the exit. 

Gaara waited, jotting down the homework with a heavy sigh. 

He was already behind in one class thanks to Lee. He'd been able to get all the homework due that day done, but he'd been forced to skip his final Tuesday assignment when he'd looked at the clock to see it had been four in the morning. Two hours of sleep wasn't exactly ideal, but he'd had worse days given his insomnia. However, he didn't want to make a habit of it. He'd worked too hard to develop a regular sleeping schedule which could be upset quite easily if he wasn't careful. Even if going to bed at one every night wasn't ideal, it was far better than going days without sleep. 

“There you are,” Kankurou said from the doorway. Gaara looked up to see his brother peering around the door frame. “Thought maybe one of those girls had finally dragged you off for a lunch date or somethin'.” 

Gaara shook his head, packing his notebook away and getting to his feet. “Unlikely,” he muttered. “When was the last time anyone talked to me unless they had to?” 

Kankurou snorted. “Drama queen,” he teased, ruffling Gaara's hair. “Didn't you make a new friend the other week? What was his name again? Brock or something?” 

Gaara rolled his eyes, swinging his bag over his shoulder and heading from the room. “Rock. Rock Lee.” 

“Weird name. His parents geologists or somethin'?” 

“I wouldn't know.” 

“Didn't you go to his house last night?” 

“Yes, and it was just the two of us.” 

Kankurou whistled. “Aw, little brother's growin' up. Hanging out with friends without adult supervision.” 

Gaara glared. 

“Anyway,” he said, ignoring Gaara, “did you wanna go out for lunch?” 

“I don't have time. I need to go to the library.” 

“What the hell for?” 

“I didn't finish my homework this weekend,” he admitted. 

Kankurou stared, mouth hanging open. “You're kiddin' me!” 

“Yes, it was a funny joke,” Gaara deadpanned. “I'm in stitches.” 

“Shaddup,” Kankurou said, shoving him lightly. “But seriously, I thought you were up late doing your homework?” 

“Obviously I didn't finish.” 

“All right, but you better not skip dinner. Temari will kill me if she finds out you're not eating again.” 

“I swear on Shukaku.” 

“Careful,” Kankurou warned. “That cat's a demon. Swearing on him is like signing a contract with the devil.”

“And you call me melodramatic.” Gaara stopped at his locker, grabbing the things he needed to finish his homework. Kankurou chuckled, leaning against the wall of lockers while Gaara searched for his things. 

“So, since you're abandoning me for the sake of being a bookworm, as usual, I guess I'll see you after school.” 

“It's Monday,” Gaara reminded him, despite the fact that they had driven separate cars to school that day. “Besides, don't you have rehearsal?” 

“Not today. Teach wanted to give us a bit more time to get our lines learned. She wants us to be 'familiar with the text'." He snorted, shoving himself off the lockers. "We start Wednesday. I'll wait 'til you're done with student council. We can grab dinner on the way home.” 

“All right,” Gaara said before closing his locker and heading for the library. 

***

His day planner sat open, staring into the depths of his soul. It was daunting to realise that his month was already full after only three weeks of classes. He waited patiently for the rest of the student council to arrive as he jotted down a note to text Lee to reschedule their tutoring session. He'd barely managed to finish his last Tuesday assignment by the end of lunch, and with the day over and more homework piling up he simply couldn't afford to meet. He would put off their meeting until the following Sunday, that way he could sort out his schedule and come up with a better tutoring plan for Lee. 

Gaara tried not to think about how it might affect Lee's backlog of math homework.

When the door finally closed, the idle chatter of his fellow council members subsided. Gaara flicked through his notes. 

“The first order of business today is the upcoming sporting events. The soccer team has their first match against Iwa in mid-October, and they begin selling tickets next week. They've requested that we organize a table during lunch time for student tickets. Doing so last year helped boost ticket sales, and according to the team captain they're hoping to place this season which means more money spent on buses for away-games. Who wants to organize this?” 

Gaara was always precise and straight to the point when it came to student council meetings. He didn't like to take any more time than necessary, and hated when anyone got off topic, which sometimes happened as high school students were want to talk about their plans for the weekend or complain about how much homework they had to do. Whenever that happened the meetings always ran over, and Gaara did not have the time or the patience for that.

A hand rose and Gaara jotted down the name. 

“Good. Do you know the soccer team's captain?” 

“Yeah,” Sato said. “I can hit them up tomorrow.” 

Gaara nodded. “Next order: The Drama club wants to organize an assembly in two weeks to help build interest since they lost a lot of good actors at the end of last year. Currently they are working on _Romeo and Juliet_ and they need more people to play minor roles. It's early in the year so I think we can convince the principal to allow it. Who would like to assist the head of the Drama club with this?” 

Another hand went up and Gaara jotted down the name. 

And on it went for just over an hour. The only interruption was thanks to Sato, who at one point complained that they should make a rule that kept teachers from assigning too much homework which completely derailed the efficiency with which Gaara was assigning tasks and discussing new school-wide issues. Gaara had silenced the laughter and chatter with a stern look, and they'd been able to get right back on track, having only lost five minutes of time.

By the end, Gaara's day planner was even fuller than it had been at the start of the meeting.

“That should be all,” he said, closing his notebook. 

“Oh!” Mikki said, clapping her hands together. “I just remembered! The track team wanted to host an informal, friendly pre-season meet with the other schools. I was just talking with Momo about it at lunch and promised her I would bring it up.” 

Gaara stifled a sigh. “You've already taken on three projects, Mikki.” 

She laughed nervously, scratching the back of her neck. “Oh, yeah. Um, could you do it? I'm really sorry, Gaara-sama, I forgot! I swear!” 

Mikki was the most forgetful person Gaara had ever met, but she was also the best Treasurer the council had ever had. It was the only reason he hadn't found a replacement for her.

“All right,” he said heavily. “Is there anything else? If not, we're done.” 

Everyone pushed their chairs back eagerly, falling into conversations with each other as they filed out of the room. Mikki hesitated a moment before leaving. 

“Are—are you sure it's okay?” she asked him when the room was empty. “I'm sure I could talk to Momo—”

“It's fine,” he told her. “As long as Momo and the others on the team help, I don't think it'll get in the way of my other duties.” 

Mikki smiled. “Okay, thank you!” 

She left quickly after that, leaving Gaara blissfully alone. He opened his day planner, adding a note to begin work on fliers for the informal track meet. He had to squeeze it into the margins of his planner, but somehow he made it fit. 

Closing it once more with a sigh, he took out his phone to text Lee. 

***

Gaara's phone buzzed and his hands stilled on the piano's keys. 

It buzzed again, sending vibrations across the piano's bench. He glanced down, checking the caller ID. He glared down at it as the display declared that Rock Lee was calling. He wished Lee would just text him. 

“Hello, Lee,” he said into the phone, trying not to sound as put upon as he felt. 

“Forgive me for calling so late! I hope I am not interrupting anything.” 

“It's fine,” Gaara said. He hadn't been making any progress with his piece, so he supposed he could suffer through a short conversation. It would distract him from his frustrations with his piece at least. Nothing he'd chosen felt right, nothing felt powerful enough. It sounded beautiful, of course, but it simply wasn't right. It didn't tug at the heartstrings or make him want to weep. It was just mundanely beautiful, like the roses his father had kept. Beautiful, but common. Almost boring in how everyday they were. 

Gaara had always preferred cacti: not inherently beautiful, but full of life-giving water and when their flowers blossomed they outshone the roses he'd grown to hate. 

“That is a relief,” Lee said. He sounded so earnest. Gaara had to wonder if Lee was always that way or if he ever got tired of being so perfectly sweet and sincere. “I was just calling because I got your text! I am so sad to hear that I will not be seeing you this weekend, but I do not mind rescheduling if it is inconvenient for you!” 

“Then the following Sunday works for you?” 

“Absolutely! I showed Yuuhi-sensei what we worked on yesterday! I had wanted to tell you earlier, but did not have the chance to call then. Our track team is already working very hard this season, so I only just got home. But Yuuhi-sensei was very pleased! It was my first one-hundred in math!” 

“That's good to hear,” Gaara said, smiling despite himself. He switched out his sheet music, listening as Lee babbled excitedly. 

“It is amazing! I even answered a question correctly today in class! You are a wonderful tutor, Gaara-san!” 

“I did my best. I think the next time we meet I'll have a better method for teaching you though. Have you considered that you might have dyscalculia?” 

There was a pause. “I am sorry, what is that?” 

“It's similar to dyslexia, but pertains to numbers instead of letters.” 

“Oh,” Lee said, voice quiet for the first time since Gaara had answered the phone. “I did not know that was something one could have. I—does that mean I will not be able to get better at math?” 

“No,” Gaara said, a bit more forcefully than he'd meant to. “It just means I need to teach you differently, but I'll need to do some research before we meet again.” 

“Research?” Lee sounded positively morose. “But will that not interfere with your course work? And your other obligations?” 

“It will, but I'm sure I'll manage.” 

Lee was silent for so long Gaara thought he'd lost the signal. There was a muffled sound in the background, and Lee said, “I will be right there!” 

“Lee?” 

“Excuse me,” he said. “That was just Gai-sensei. Dinner is ready, so I will need to go, but... I can always pay you more for your help to compensate for the extra time you are taking. I did not realise I would be such a difficult student.” 

Gaara felt guilty, as though Lee had read his mind the other night. “It's fine, Lee. I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to, and it isn't your fault that you may have a learning disability.” 

It was only half true. While it certainly wasn't Lee's fault that he was showing signs of dyscalculia, Gaara did have to consider his own course work. Lee was going to prove a more time-consuming student than anyone else, except perhaps Naruto, however, he needed the money and he hadn't had anymore calls about his fliers since the first week he'd put them up. By now they had probably been taken down or someone else had posted a flier over his. 

“If you are sure. But I insist that we raise the price. It seems unfair to ask you to do extra work without compensation.” 

Gaara sighed, shaking his head. “I won't demand it, but if it will make you feel better I will accept.” 

“Great!” Lee sounded more cheerful. “I should be going. I hope you have a good rest of your evening! Thank you again for putting so much effort into helping me learn math!” 

“You're welcome.” Gaara had never tutored anyone so appreciative of the help he gave them. It was disconcerting the way Lee treated him at times, it was almost as though he thought Gaara was nice and someone he could be friends with. 

“Good night, Gaara-san!” Lee said, and the call ended. 

Gaara stared down at the screen, looking at the end time blankly. He rarely talked to anyone on the phone, let alone for longer than absolutely necessary. It gave him the barest hint of anxiety, and while it was manageable, he would rather avoid it if he could. Behind him Kankurou chuckled. 

“What was that about no one talking to you?” 

Gaara glared over his shoulder at his brother. “It was about his tutoring.” 

“Mhm,” Kankurou hummed, not even bothering to hide his grin. “And that little smile? That part of the tutoring, too?” 

“He's not my friend, Kankurou.” 

“Whatever you say, lil' brother. Whatever you say.” 

Kankurou disappeared down the hall. Gaara could hear him chuckling all the way to his room.

***

Tuesday was full of drafting up fliers for the unexpected, unofficial track meet; a tutoring session during lunch with the blushing girl, who was at least dedicated to her work even if she couldn't meet his gaze without turning a deep red; a brief conversation with the new captain of the debate team informing Gaara of their first event; and then after school he met with Naruto for another wasted hour of tutoring. 

“—was saying how he was never gonna come back to Konoha, but I think I can convince him—” Naruto had spent the last twenty minutes talking about Uchiha Sasuke. Gaara stared directly at Naruto, completely unamused. Most people found the way he could stare without blinking or even a hint of expression unnerving. Naruto was mostly oblivious. 

“Naruto,” he said through clenched teeth for the umpteenth time. 

“He blocked my number though, so I wrote him this letter.” Naruto wasn't listening. He brandished the letter at Gaara, encroaching on his personal space just enough that Gaara's annoyance with him made way for a brief tickle of anxiety. He leaned back to avoid being smacked in the face with the errant letter. “Could you look it over for me? I wanna make sure it sounds good.” 

“That isn't what you're paying me for,” Gaara pointed out. 

“Aw, come on man! It's important! Besides, I'm still paying you, aren't I?” 

“What you are doing is wasting my time. You do realise I have a million things to do, yes? I didn't agree to tutor you so I could hear you talk about Uchiha Sasuke.” 

Naruto sighed so loudly it drew the attention of several others in the library. Gaara was amazed they hadn't been kicked out yet. Lee might have been louder, but at least once he started working he was focused and dedicated.

“Fine,” he whined. “It's just boring, okay? I hate reading.” 

“Your past grades in literature did suggest something to that effect,” Gaara said dryly. He pushed the book towards Naruto. “Now, pay attention.” 

Naruto grumbled, but did as instructed. The last thirty-five minutes passed with minimal interruption aside from Naruto's many heavy sighs—truly, his life was just so hard. Gaara did not pity him even a little bit. 

At the end of the session, Naruto cracked his back and grinned. “So, what are you doing tonight? Wanna come out with me and Sakura-chan? Oh, and I think her girlfriend might be there too—” 

“What?” Gaara asked, momentarily distracted from packing his things. Naruto hadn't asked Gaara to hang out in years—Naruto's request for tutoring had actually surprised him. He'd been laboring under the assumption for years now that his friendship wasn't good enough for Naruto, and he'd quickly given up on it when vying for Naruto's attention had only led to more anxiety than it was worth. 

“Do you. Want to. Hang. Out?” Naruto said each word carefully, as though he'd spoken a different language and this would somehow bridge the language barrier. 

“Why?” 

Naruto frowned. “Because we're friends?” 

“I don't—I'm busy.” He felt the tell-tale creep of anxiety clawing at his heart. His chest felt tight. Naruto was his friend, he reminded himself. He wouldn't be making fun of Gaara by asking him to hang out. Even if they hadn't spoken in years, even if Sasuke had always been more important to Naruto than he could ever be, even if Naruto had ignored text after text after text—they were friends. 

Naruto's shoulders slumped. “Aw, come on man! I wanna introduce you to my friends! I think you'd like them. Besides, when was the last time we actually hung out?” 

“Four years ago.” _Give or take five months, two weeks, and one day,_ Gaara thought, but he didn't want Naruto to know just how much he'd missed their friendship.

“See! And when was the last time you hung out with anyone?” 

“Four years ago.” His tone was flat and his expression blank, but his heart was racing. The library was suddenly far too cramped and Naruto was far too close and he couldn't breathe. It was so stupid, he was so stupid. It was just a friendly invitation to hang out, meet new people—too many people, Gaara didn't want to meet more people. One person was enough, but two! His head was spinning. 

“My point exactly! We gotta get you out there! You gotta make friends, you gotta _date_! We're in high school, man! You can't just—Gaara? Hey, where are you going? What's wrong?”

Gaara had pushed his chair back so suddenly it caught against the carpet and toppled over. He grabbed his things, shoving them into his bag haphazardly. “I have to go. I'm—I'm late for an appointment.”

Naruto was on his feet, his blue eyes shining with concern that Gaara didn't want to see directed his way. He didn't want Naruto's pity, he didn't want this fake kindness. Where had Naruto been four years ago when Gaara had broken down completely? Where had he been two years ago when Gaara had started the support group at his school and people were too scared of the creepy, mentally ill kid to join? Where had he been when Gaara had stopped being scary and started being admired?

“Okay,” Naruto said carefully, his voice distant to Gaara's ears. “I'm sorry. Maybe some other time? I just—I thought it would be nice.”

Gaara managed a stilted nod before slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking stiffly from the library. A few eyes followed him as he left, but he wasn't aware of anything save the exit. He needed air, he needed space, and he needed it now.

By the time he got to his car he was shaking. He threw his things into the passenger seat and, after a brief fight with his keys as his hands shook, he started up his car. Immediately the gentle trill of a piano washed over him and he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel as he counted down from one-hundred.

It had been at least two years since he'd had an anxiety attack of this magnitude. Not even the thought of entering Lee's home had induced such an episode, (which, in hindsight, he realised was quite a feat). As he found his center, Gaara cursed himself. He'd made a scene, probably made an ass of himself, and missed the chance to rebuild his friendship with Naruto. This was why he didn't have friends. People were too complicated, too stressful; he didn't get them and he didn't trust them, and they didn't like him anyways, and why did Naruto want to spend time with him now after years of ignoring him?

He shook away the thoughts, quickly forcing himself to recite the notes to the piece he'd been working on in his piano lessons. Thoughts like that weren't helpful, they would only hurt him. Next time—if there was a next time—he would hopefully handle Naruto's invitation a little better.

“I didn't have time anyways,” he muttered, his voice horse. His throat was sore, as though he'd been screaming, like he'd used to do as a child. He rubbed at it, trying to stave off the memories.

After twenty minutes, he felt it was finally safe for him to start driving. He checked his day planner, quickly going over his plans for the rest of the evening. He'd lost thirty minutes at this point, but if he threw himself into his work immediately when he got home and skipped dinner he might be able to get everything done by two. It would be another late night—this did not bode well for his sleep schedule—but at least he would be able to get it all done.

***

When Gaara had walked through the door, Kankurou had taken one look at him and immediately grabbed him water, his anxiety medication, and something to eat before leaving him alone for the rest of the night. Not a word passed between them, but Kankurou's silent support was enough.

He had no doubt that Kankurou would call Temari first thing tomorrow and that she would drop everything to come over to see him, but for now his siblings would give him space. It was how he coped best, and they respected that. Space, his work and, if he had time, the piano. He didn't have time for the piano tonight, but he could listen to music while he worked which would be a decent enough substitute.

He threw himself into his homework, losing himself as he worked diligently through the night with only Shukaku for company. The sound of his pencil scratching over paper was lost beneath the music as his headphones serenaded him with symphony after symphony. It was easy to forget to check the time when he was so focused, so the next time he looked up from his work the sky was beginning to lighten.

He checked his clock and cursed. It was already after four, which meant Gaara needed to be awake in two hours. _Again._ This made twice in less than a week. He groaned, dropping his head to his desk with a soft _thunk_. Behind him, on his bed, Shukaku let out a gravely meow as though to complain that the sudden noise had disturbed his slumber. Gaara didn't hear it over the music still playing in his ears.

He sat for several long minutes with his eyes closed and his head on the desk. If he went to bed now, he probably wouldn't fall asleep for at least another hour, and then he'd probably be more exhausted for having only slept for such a short time. But forgoing sleep completely wasn't a thrilling prospect, especially because Wednesdays were his longest days between the support group and piano lessons.

Sighing, Gaara got up to make himself a cup of tea.

Shukaku jumped from the bed, landing heavily on the floor and following after Gaara into the kitchen.

Gaara had always liked the early hours of the morning best. Between four and just before seven, when the world hadn't started to wake up, cast in the soft blues of pre-dawn and all was peaceful. It had been a year since the last time he'd greeted the sun, and though he loved this time of day best, he hoped this would be the last time for a while.

The kettle simmered gently on the stove as he stared out the window. The house his father had left him and his siblings was more of a small mansion that sat on a hill overlooking the rest of the suburbs. Though he hated the house with its many empty rooms and the overgrown rose bushes that they couldn't seem to get rid of and even more bad memories, he loved the view. He had spent many early mornings staring out of his bedroom window, watching the sky as it went from black to grey to that soft, tranquil blue.

 _“Wheeee!”_ the kettle whistled. Gaara quickly shut it off before the noise could wake Kankurou. They were all light sleepers, a habit that had kept them safe during their childhoods and that they would probably never break.

At his feet, Shukaku paced back and forth, either with intent to trip him or to get his attention. Shukaku was a simple cat; he only wanted two things in life: food and destruction. If he couldn't have one, he would always settle for the other. Sometimes he wondered why they bothered keeping him.

“Mrow!” Shukaku let out a gravely protest.

"Food it is,” Gaara muttered setting his tea aside to steep. He stepped carefully over Shukaku, moving to the fridge where a half-full can of cat food sat on the top shelf. They'd put Shukaku on a diet after their last vet visit, which had resulted in lots of broken items, a couch that had been clawed beyond belief, and several scratches to Kankurou's legs that had needed antibiotics. Gaara had been the only one allowed near Shukaku as he adjusted to the torment.

Gaara filled his dish, crumbling up a few treats into it and adding a bit of water to ensure that Shukaku wasn't too dehydrated. He was a stubborn cat and often refused to drink water from anything but a running faucet. Even the fancy water fountains didn't appease him, and Temari had spent a solid hundred on one in an attempt to get him to drink more.

“Mrowwww!” Shukaku wailed miserably. 

“Hush,” Gaara told him, setting the bowl down. Shukaku hissed as if this tactic had ever intimidated Gaara. “I'll take it away, you know.”

Shukaku glared, but decided that losing his chance at an early breakfast wasn't worth it. He settled in, allowing Gaara to pet him as he ate.

“We really ought to get rid of you,” he muttered. Shukaku was just another bad memory, but he was one Gaara couldn't quite let go. His father had got the cat when he was a baby, and there was something to be said for growing up alongside the beast. It made it difficult for Gaara to part with him. Shukaku was old now and probably didn't have many years left. A part of Gaara knew that, even though the cat had been nothing but a burden, he would miss him when he died.

His tea was still hot, but had cooled enough to drink by the time he returned to it, and he took it to his bedroom. He curled up at his window seat like he'd done before he'd started to sleep regularly and put his headphones back in, scrolling through until he found what he was looking for. A soft melody played in his ears, gentle and soothing to match the slow rising of the sun. It set him at ease, gave him the illusion of sleep. He settled back against his window seat to watch as the world around him slowly woke from dreams.

***

He'd dozed lightly as the sun rose, but Shukaku had woken him just before he'd needed to leave for school with a loud wail that had startled him awake. With no time to get ready, he'd rushed out of the house and to his car, not even bothering to change into a clean uniform. It was a stressful enough start to the day—more of a continuation of his last day than a start to a new one—and it left him jittery and exhausted.

He had only just made it to school on time, racing into his first class wild-eyed and out of breath. His classmates stared at him as he took his usual seat at the front, a wave of whispers rising around him like a judgmental wind. He did his best to ignore it as he settled in with his notebook and his homework out, determined to be the model student that he always was. Halfway through he'd started to nod off and by the end of the period, his notebook was a mess of inarticulate notes and scribbles; by mid-afternoon he had given up on paying attention entirely; and by lunch he decided he needed a nap more than he needed to do his homework. It was only because he'd managed to not only catch up, but jump ahead on his homework that he allowed himself to climb into his car, turn on the AC and some music, and recline his seat for a nap.

Forty-five minutes later he felt at least functional enough to get through the rest of the day.

If it weren't for the support group and piano later, he wouldn't have been quite so stressed about his lack of sleep. The support group worried him most of all. On good days, it was easy to sit with his fellow students who struggled with mental illness like him, but on bad days it could be an overwhelming experience. The students in the group had a wide variety of complex issues that could lead the discussion any which way, including to dark topics. Gaara could handle it most days, but after the last few days and with so little sleep, he felt more fragile than he had in a long time.

He felt as though the careful balance of his life had been upset, and he couldn't decide if it was all Rock Lee's fault or Naruto's fault or if it was just chance that had led him to this point, but he wanted it to stop. He wanted his life to go back to the neat and ordered way it had been for the last few years. He didn't need new friends and he didn't need Naruto to pretend like he cared. Gaara would always consider him a friend, but he knew his place in Naruto's life: on the outskirts, an afterthought, a “hey, let's catch up” that would never be followed up on.

That was his life. He had his family and one distant friend, and he had his work and his music. Everything else was just white noise and that was how he liked it.

By the end of the day, with only two new assignments to concern himself with, he decided to stop by the support group and if it turned out that the day's topic would be too much for him, he would go home to nap before piano classes. 

“Gaara-sama, are you all right?”

He hadn't even managed to walk through the door properly before Matsuri was interrogating him. He side-stepped her, avoiding her concerned gaze and taking his usual seat in the group. She immediately sat down next to him, keeping her distance, though she leaned forward as though she wanted to get closer. Kankurou had been the one to explain to Gaara that she had a crush on him. It had surprised him and made him feel uncomfortable, but eventually he had accepted it. One day, the admiration would wear off and she would be able to look at him without blushing; one day she would be able to be simply grateful to him for organizing the support group that had helped her with her depression, instead of idealizing him the way she did.

Gaara still didn't understand what she could possibly see in him, but she was young and impressionable. He supposed it was one of those normal aspects of teenage life that he would just never understand—he'd never had any interest in dating or sex, but sometimes he wondered what it would be like to kiss someone. Years ago, he'd imagined blue eyes staring back at him, but it had been a long time since then and Gaara didn't know what to make of that anymore than he knew what to make of Matsuri's interest in him.

“Gaara-sama?”

He sighed. “I'm just tired,” he told her. “I couldn't sleep last night.”

Most of the students in the support group had arrived, and they all shared looks. No one knew the full details of Gaara's mental health, just bits and pieces: depression, anxiety, insomnia. He'd kept the more serious things to himself though: self-harm, suicide attempts, complex PTSD, the potential for a personality disorder (though he hadn't been diagnosed, he had done his own research). He didn't like to divulge his personal information, but he'd organized the group as a means to help others who were struggling the way he was. He'd seen it in Naruto, in Matsuri, even in his own siblings—and once he'd realised what he was going through, he'd wanted to help others. He'd _needed_ to help others. He'd suffered alone for years, he didn't want others to do the same.

The support group had started out small—no one had wanted to join the weird ninth grader with the heavy black rings around his eyes and the scar on his forehead that he'd never explained. Everyone remembered Gaara from primary school and junior high; he'd been weird back then too, except he'd also scared the other kids. They hadn't been ready to believe that he'd changed, but a few students had shown up to that first meeting, and eventually the group had grown. 

Gaara had made a positive impact. It had felt good; it had felt right; it had felt like he had purpose, a reason to live. 

And then people wanted him to become the student body president. Suddenly he wasn't the weird kid anymore; he was the kid who'd helped the most popular girl in school battle an eating disorder that had almost killed her; he was the kid who'd convinced a star athlete to seek help for his anger problems; he was the kid who'd noticed the math-geek struggling with self-harm; he was the kid who'd helped them when no one else would.

Gaara liked helping people, but he didn't like people helping him.

“Are you having trouble with your insomnia again?” one of the other students asked. He was new to the group that year, a tenth grader Gaara hadn't had the chance to properly meet.

He shifted, feeling claustrophobic with so many eyes on him. “I had an anxiety attack yesterday,” he said carefully. “I stayed up late distracting myself with homework.”

There was a collective sigh.

“You work too hard,” Matsuri told him sadly.

“I wasn't working when it happened,” he explained.

“What happened?” Sari, Matsuri's best friend, asked. Unlike Matsuri, she often forgot that Gaara didn't like his personal space to be invaded. She leaned forward, trying to reach out to touch Gaara's arm around Matsuri.

Gaara shied away. “It was nothing. I was just tutoring an old friend,” he hedged. “He wanted to hang out afterwards and it triggered an anxiety attack.”

“Why do you think that is?” someone else asked. Gaara looked away from Sari's outstretched hand, relieved to see Matsuri reprimanding her quietly. He recognized the speaker as Kankurou's friend, Karasu.

“I...” He couldn't tell them he didn't want to talk about it. He always told his group that talking about things would help, that not talking would only hurt them in the long run. He swallowed. “I don't... hang out with people. He and I haven't even seen each other in years.”

“So do you have social anxiety?” 

“I suppose,” Gaara said vaguely. Of course he did, but he had never liked talking about himself in the group as much, and having the attention on him now was unnerving.

“Well,” Matsuri said carefully, “maybe you should try to ease into hanging out with him? It might be good for you. You probably need a break from all the work you do.”

The way she looked at him was like being trapped in a bad dream: it was all pity, mixed with hope and expectation. She was still hoping that he'd be normal enough to want to date her, and then she'd only be disappointed. He looked away from her, but around the room everyone was nodding in agreement, staring at him with almost identical expressions to Matsuri's.

Maybe it wasn't pity at all. Maybe it wasn't expectation. Maybe it was concern and compassion. Maybe they actually cared about his well-being as he cared about theirs.

The thought left him feeling almost as unsettled as sitting out front of Lee's apartment had made him feel. He wanted to leave the room immediately.

“I'll think about it,” he said stiffly.

“Good!” Karasu said enthusiastically. “You deserve to be happy too, ya know.”

Gaara, for all that he wanted to be as healthy and stable as he could, did not believe that he deserved to be truly happy. He stared at Karasu, unable to look away.

“I—I'll try to remember that,” he said. He tore his gaze away from Karasu, but everyone was still staring at him expectantly. “I'm done talking. Who wants to go next?”

***

Gaara sat in his car, staring blankly ahead as he tried to process the last two hours.

Logically, he knew that people cared about him; emotionally, he only thought his siblings did. He supposed it made sense though. People did admire him for the things he'd done, and there were plenty of people who had crushes on him if Kankurou was to be trusted (and usually if it was something he could tease Gaara about he was quite reliable). He swallowed, clenching the steering wheel tightly for a few seconds before releasing it. He reached out and pressed play on his stereo and the same music he'd dozed to earlier that morning washed over him. He closed his eyes against an unexpected burn.

“Gaara!” There was an insistent knock as his car window. He jumped, his heart racing, and got a crick in his neck for how quickly he turned to look at the person who'd interrupted him. He forced himself to calm down as he stared into Naruto's smiling face.

“What do you want?” he asked, rolling down his window.

Naruto pulled a face. “What the hell are you listening to?"

Gaara glared. “I do not have the time or patience—"

“Someone's testy today,” Naruto grumbled. “Anyway, I called your house and your sister said you were still here.”

Gaara waited for Naruto to explain himself further, but when he remained quiet Gaara rolled his eyes. “And?”

“Well, I wanted to see ya! Can't your friend want to see you?”

“Naruto,” Gaara warned. “I have had a very long day. Tell me what you want or leave me alone.”

Naruto sighed. “Look, I—I wanted to apologize for—well for a lot of shit. I was thinkin' about yesterday and how you freaked, and I just... I feel like a bad friend. I mean, I have been a bad friend. I didn't mean to upset you, but I really did wanna hang, so I thought I'd come here to make it up to you!” 

Gaara let out a slow breath. This was too much all in one day. He needed space and his work and his music and his hellish cat and for Naruto to go far away. Why couldn't he go confuse Uchiha Sasuke? Why was he banging down Gaara's car window when it hadn't occurred to him to be there for him once in the last four years?

“Gaara?”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” he said flatly.

“Great! So what do you wanna do?”

“What?”

“Do,” Naruto repeated. “What do you wanna do? We're going to hang out, yeah? I want you to meet some of my friends and, I dunno, I guess I just thought it'd be cool if we caught up.”

Gaara stared nonpulsed. He probably shouldn't drive anytime soon. His hands felt strange and he was sure if he looked at them they would not look right. He hated disassociating, especially while driving, but at least he was still parked.

“I have piano lessons tonight,” he said automatically. “I also can't drive right now.”

“Um...?”

“I am not fit to drive. Do you know how?”

“Yeah, sure do, dattebayo! How do ya think I got here?” 

“Good. You're driving me to my lesson.”

“Oh. Uh, okay...” Naruto was staring at him, but Gaara wasn't aware of it. He wasn't aware of anything which was the problem. Naruto opened the door, nudging Gaara. “Come on, I can't drive with you in the driver's seat.” 

Gaara moved as if in a trance, stepping out of his car and moving around to the other side in a foggy haze. Temari was going to be beside herself when she saw him tonight, he just knew it.

“So where are we going?” Naruto asked.

Gaara blinked owlishly. “Oh.”

He pulled out his phone and opened the GPS, doing his best not to pay attention to his hands as he did so. Once the GPS was set up, he motioned for Naruto to drive.

“Are you sure you should be going to your piano lessons?”

“It'll help,” he assured. 

“Okay.” Naruto sounded unconvinced. “So, what are we gonna do after?”

“After, assuming I'm fit to drive, I will drop you back off here and go home.”

“But—”

“I have had a long day,” he reiterated. “I am not up for more socializing. If you insist, we can hang out another time. Maybe next Friday.” 

“How about this Friday?” 

“I can't. I have too much to do this week.”

Naruto shook his head, disappointed. The way his hair reflected the light caught Gaara's eye and he watched Naruto in a daze, waiting for him to speak. Naruto could never be quiet for too long. “You do too much. It's no wonder you're having a break down.” 

“I am _not_ having a break down,” Gaara snapped. “I am having a disassociative episode. I was unable to sleep last night and I went to bed late the night before. This is not a break down, my mind is simply having trouble processing my current emotional state.”

Naruto whistled. “Rightttt, that sounds like a breakdown.”

Gaara glared. “Shut up.” 

Amazingly, Naruto did just that. They drove in silence save for the music playing softly through the speakers and the occasional direction chimed from Gaara's phone. By the time they arrived at Gaara's lesson, he was feeling marginally more grounded.

“If you want to come in you can,” he told Naruto. “Otherwise, there's a restaurant across the street you can wait in.” 

Naruto shrugged. “I'll come in, but you gotta promise me that we're gonna hang out next Friday.” 

Gaara stared at the pinky finger Naruto had extended towards him, then to the earnest expression on his scarred face. He couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his mouth as he extended his own hand and linked their pinkies.

“All right,” he said. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song ["It's a Hard Life"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHP-qgzUVLM) by Queen
> 
> If you're curious, [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WI1xExDWVF0) is what I imagined Gaara was listening to while sitting at his window when he couldn't sleep.
> 
> Also, the plan is to update in two weeks! Basically, my goal is to have a bi-weekly update schedule. Initially this was supposed to go up last Thursday but my week was hectic, so here it is today. The next update will (hopefully) be 7/6! Stay tuned!


	3. Keep Good Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A promise is a promise, and so Gaara finds himself in the unlikely situation of meeting new people and attempting to socialize like a regular high school student. But making friends is not as easy as everyone makes it seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, boy! It's been a while. I should have had this chapter up _ages_ ago. I am so sorry. tbh i struggle a lot with writing slice of life stories, so whenever i get to a point where there's a lot of like mundane and everyday tasks/scenes i just.... get writers block. But I'm hoping to be back on that bi-weekly posting schedule from here on out. I'll still be working on my other on-going fics as well, so if you're reading The Art of Love or Alliance, or even any of my Harry/Draco stuff, I promise those are not forgotten! There will be specific posting days for everything! Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys.

His promise to catch up with Naruto haunted him for the rest of the week and well into the following one. It had been a moment of weakness: Naruto had been smiling at him and offering up the friendship Gaara had so missed—what else could he do but give in? 

But as Friday drew nearer, Gaara grew more anxious. 

Naruto had texted him at the beginning of the dreaded week, detailing his plans. He and Gaara would meet after school and do a bit of catching up over a quick bite, and then Naruto was going to drag Gaara down to the old drive-in movie theatre that had been refurbished into a themed dinner and arcade. This was apparently where he and his friends spent their Friday evenings, and Naruto was eager for Gaara to meet a slew of people he had no desire to meet. 

One friend was already almost too much. Gaara could not fathom what having two or, god forbid, three friends would be like. It sounded like exhausting work, especially if those friends were anything like Naruto. 

There was a small voice at the back of his mind, however, that told him if he really didn't want to make new friends he would just back out. He ignored it with the practiced ease of someone who knows how to compartmentalize with the finesse of the chronically fucked up. 

And then Friday arrived and Gaara had to fight not to text Naruto to cancel their plans. 

The day was over far too quickly. One minute he was sitting down for his first class of the day, the next the final bell had rung and his phone was vibrating as energetically as Naruto shouted. He stared down at his phone as he waited for his classmates to trickle from the room, chatting animatedly about their weekend plans. 

His phone continued to vibrate, skittering across the desk a fraction with each ring. The light died as the call went to voicemail. He swallowed, picking up his phone and unlocking it. Naruto would not accept a last minute cancellation—especially not after a pinky promise, which for some reason was something Naruto held in the highest regard. Gaara had never understood this about him, but he could not break a pinky promise without facing some sort of retribution. At the very least, Naruto would spend the day hounding him which was hardly ideal. 

With a sigh, he clicked through to Naruto's name in his contacts and sent him a quick text. 

The response was almost immediate. 

Gaara felt dread pool in his stomach, jittery and heavy. 

“Hey, kid,” Kankurou greeted, standing right next to him. Gaara jerked, startled by the arrival of his brother. “Sorry. You still going out with Blondie?” 

Gaara nodded mutely. Kankurou snickered. “Don't be like that. It'll be fine. You might even have fun.” 

“Fun,” Gaara repeated dully. “Right.” 

He rose, gathering his things and following his brother into the hall. It wasn't as though he didn't want to experience that foreign and elusive thing called fun, something he had only ever witnessed others experiencing with a deep sense of longing. He did actually wish, in the few quiet moments when his life was at a standstill, that he could be more like other teenagers: social plans, skipping homework, spending the whole night talking on the phone, sleepovers, sneaking out. It was all so horribly common and so painfully out of reach. 

And now that the opportunity had presented itself all he wanted to do was rush home and hide in his room with his cat. 

He swallowed. “He wants me to meet his friends,” Gaara said quietly. Kankurou was there for moral support, but he had rehearsal soon. Gaara couldn't take up too much of his time. 

“Yeah? You didn't mention that. I thought you two were just catching up.” 

“We are. And then he's introducing me to his friends.” 

Kankurou whistled. “Did he say how many?” 

Gaara shook his head. “We're meeting at The Valley.” 

“Oh damn.” Kankurou had more of a social life than Gaara did—which wasn't saying much, but he was much better versed in social etiquette and the many places around the city that the high school students from the many schools liked to frequent. “That place is usually bumping Friday nights. Maybe you should tell him you can't stay out late?” 

Kankurou was staring at him, worry clear in his face. Gaara felt the edges of his anxiety spike. “How crowded is it?” 

“It's packed. And loud. I really don't think you should go.” 

Gaara nodded slowly. He finally had an out and suddenly he didn't want to take it. Why couldn't he just be _normal_ for once? Why couldn't he be like the other teenagers who were loud and obnoxious and did stupid shit just because they were young and testing the boundaries of the world? Why couldn't he hang out with his old friend at a crowded, loud arcade for a few hours? 

He could do it. He would do it. 

Anxiety be damned. 

He squared his jaw, shaking his head. “No. I—I want to try.” 

Kankurou sighed. “Why do you always do the exact opposite of what I tell you?” 

“Because I'm a teenager?” 

Kankurou snorted and ruffled Gaara's hair. “Coulda fooled me.” 

Gaara pulled away, glaring. “I can have fun,” he snapped. 

“Never said you couldn't,” Kankurou pointed out. “But that place ain't your scene. Valley's fun, I like it, but you... Listen, if you get overwhelmed you text me, okay? I'll tell Teach that I have a family emergency. It's still early enough in rehearsals that she ain't gonna lose her shit if I bounce early.” 

Gaara sighed, relieved. He wanted to go, he didn't want to go. He wanted an out, he didn't want an out. Now at least he had a safety-net. “Okay.” 

“Good. I'll see you at home. Try not to get too wild tonight.” 

“Oh, yes, cause I was definitely planning on doing something truly out of character,” Gaara said with a role of his eyes. 

“I mean it. Don't let the other kids peer pressure you. No alcohol or drugs.” 

Gaara stared at Kankurou flatly. He couldn't decide if his brother was actually serious, but he was annoyed regardless. “Damn,” he said in a monotone. “There go my plans for getting wildly drunk and driving around town.” 

Kankurou snorted, shoving him lightly. “All right, all right. I get it. Damn, I wish Temari was here. This is supposed to be her area of expertise. I'm not supposed to be mother hen.” 

“It is rather odd,” Gaara agreed. He pulled out his car keys, having finally reached his car, and unlocked it from a distance. “See you later, mom.” 

Kankurou squawked in protest as Gaara got into his car. 

***

Naruto graced him with a grin so wide it looked painful. 

Gaara stared into his smiling face, his own expression blank. He'd listened to Naruto talk for over an hour—about his life, his school, his friends, his plans for the future, and, of course, Uchiha Sasuke. Gaara hadn't had to say much of anything for the last hour, and then Naruto had stopped talking and asked, “So, what about you?” 

Gaara didn't know what to say. He didn't have a particularly exciting home life—a better relationship with his siblings, certainly, but Naruto had been there for that, as well as the death of his father. 

“There isn't much to say,” Gaara offered, still staring at Naruto's broad grin. “I spend most of my time doing school work, tutoring and tending to my duties as student president. I also have my piano lessons and I've organized a support group at school for students with mental illness.” He shrugged, picking up the last fry in his basket. “Once I finish school, I want to move out of the city for college.” 

Naruto nodded, his gin slipping a bit. “Don't you have friends, though? What about dating?” 

Gaara narrowed his eyes. “Naruto, you were the only friend I had when we were twelve. Did you actually think anything had changed?” 

Naruto sighed, looking away from Gaara. “Guess I just thought you'd have reached out to other people. I mean, you reached out to me.” 

“Yes,” Gaara agreed, his tone clipped, “after you and I got into a fight.”

Naurto chuckled. “I kicked your ass-tebayo.” 

“Through sheer dumb luck,” Gaara murmured, trying to keep from smiling. “I deserved it, at any rate.” 

“You also deserve friends,” Naruto said seriously. His smile was gone now and he was staring intently at Gaara across the table. 

“I—” He took a deep breath, looking away. “I don't have an easy time making friends,” he hedged. It was true, but of course he also hadn't tried since Naruto. He kept everything strictly professional, avoiding any and all opportunities for social interaction that could be considered friendly. 

Naruto's grin chased away the somber expression on his face. “Well, that's what I'm gonna help you with!” 

Gaara shifted uncomfortably, looking to the exit. “I don't know if that's such a good idea.” 

Naruto snorted. “'Course it is. You just need to relax, buddy. It's not the end of the world! Trust me, you'll like them.” 

“I'm not worried about that,” he muttered. _I'm worried about them not liking me._

“Then there's nothing to worry about!” Naruto flagged down their server, grabbing the check. He whined, pulling out the same frog wallet Gaara remembered him using in their childhood. “Man, you didn't even eat anything. I told you I was treating!” 

“I also have a substantial amount of funds thanks to my father,” Gaara pointed out. “I didn't need you to treat.” 

Naruo rolled his eyes. “It's not about the money, dumby. It's what friends do. I invited you out, so I'm paying. All you got was fries!” 

“If I'm hungry later, you can buy me something,” Gaara offered effectively silencing Naruto's protests. 

“Fine,” he said petulantly. 

“But I may need to leave early,” Gaara added quickly. “I have a lot of work—”

“Oh, no! No, no, no, no! You are not getting out of this because of homework.” 

Gaara clenched his hands in his lap. It had been a long time since he'd seen Naruto, he couldn't expect him to remember every nuance of Gaara's boundaries. He forced himself to say, jaw tight as he spoke through clenched teeth, “I don't like crowds and I don't like meeting new people. You're an exception, not the rule.” 

Naruto looked caught between concern and flattery. “Oh,” he said quietly. “I didn't think about that—but my friends are good people! I'm sure you'll forget all about your worries once you get to know them!” 

“Naruto,” he tried, but changed his mind quickly. “I'll do my best.” 

Talking about his mental health would most likely worsen the anxiety he was already warring with. He rarely talked about his own mental health, especially since the death of his therapist two years ago. She'd been an old woman, so it shouldn't have come as such a shock, but it had and Gaara had refused to find a new one since. Maybe someday he'd be able to bring himself to seek out someone else, but for now the loss of Chiyo was still too fresh. 

Once the bill was paid, Naruto practically jumped to his feet. He was overly eager, his excitement at introducing Gaara to his friends almost contagious. Gaara tried to smile in return, but it was weak at best and held the edge of queasiness to it.

“I can't wait for you to meet everyone,” Naruto said as he started up his car and pulled out of the parking lot. “I managed to convince the whole gang to show up, even Neji! He's almost as much of a dork as you. I swear, Gejimayu and Tenten are the only ones he ever sees these days. Hell, it stresses me out just lookin' at him half the time! He's so tense about college applications—”

“Is Neji not in your year?” 

Naruto shook his head. “Nope. He's in your year. So are Gejimayu, Tenten, Sai, and Sakura. Everyone else is in my year, though: Ino—she's Sakura's girlfriend, so don't try anything—Hinata—Kiba likes her, so I'd keep my distance if I were you—Kiba, Shino, and Chouji. I think that's everyone—oh! And Shikamaru should be there too. I asked Chouji if he could drag him out tonight. Shikamaru's at Kage U because he's a genius or something. He should be in my year, but they pushed him ahead so many times he's already in college.” 

Gaara was overwhelmed just listening to Naruto list off all his friends. He clenched his hand around his phone, holding on to it like a lifeline. “I see.” 

“Now that I think about it, that's not a lot of girls,” Naruto shook his head sadly. “Sorry, man.” 

“I don't care,” Gaara said tightly. 

Naruto laughed. “Course you don't,” he said as though this were a longstanding joke they had shared. “It's all right, there will be plenty of other girls there I bet!” 

“I don't care,” Gaara repeated. “I don't want to date anyone.” 

Naruto turned, glancing at Gaara as though just seeing him for the first time. “But—”

“You're not dating,” Gaara pointed out.

Naruto flushed, looking back at the road. “It's complicated.” 

“It seems simple to me,” Gaara countered. “You're not dating and you never once mentioned harboring feelings for someone. Why do you insist that I need to?” 

“Okay.” Naruto sounded subdued and, when Gaara glanced at him, his mouth was turned down and his eyes had the far away look of someone who's heart had been broken. 

“Naruto?” 

Naruto shook his head. “You're right! I shouldn't be pushing you into something. We gotta get you used to having friends first!” 

Gaara let the moment pass. If Naruto didn't want to talk about it, Gaara could respect that.

They drove in relative silence after that, save for the radio playing. 

***

The Valley had once been an old drive-in movie theatre ominously named The Valley of the End. It had eventually gone out of business as drive-ins went out of fashion, but the vacant lot had still been a favourite hang out spot for trouble-making teens. Eventually, after a series of fights that had ended in a lot of police interference and hospitalization, the lot had been shut down completely. 

When The Valley had reopened, it was as a hip new themed diner-arcade that drew the attention of teens from all over the city. Within the first month of opening, The Valley had become the coolest place to hang out on weekends. 

Gaara had, of course, avoided it like the plague. 

Not that he'd had to avoid it. No one had ever invited him to go before, so it was easy to put it out of mind. Kankurou and Temari had both been, but they knew better than to invite him someplace so crowded. 

As they pulled into the long drive, Gaara watched wide-eyed as they passed group after group of rambunctious teens and so many parked cars he didn't think they'd ever find a spot. The long road leading up to the diner made way for a full-sized parking lot that was already packed to capacity. All around, there were teenagers hanging out on the grassy areas in between parking spots or on benches that had been installed over the years. The diner-arcade was alive with noise—music and laughter and the sound of games being played—and so packed Gaara couldn't imagine that they'd even get through the doors. 

Naruto was grinning from ear-to-ear as he pulled into a spot just on the edge of the wooded area that surrounded the lot. “Perfect,” he said. 

Gaara emphatically disagreed. 

“You ready?” 

Gaara couldn't bring himself to respond. 

“Stop being so serious,” Naruto said with a laugh, gently shoving Gaara's shoulder. Gaara immediately shied away from him. “Let's hurry up and get inside. I wanna hit the arcade before all the good games are hogged.” 

Automatically, Gaara opened the door and stepped out into the frenzy of The Valley. It was even worse than when he'd been in the car—louder and more stifling than any mall he'd ever been to. He took in a deep breath, trying to steady himself, trying to keep himself as present as he could. 

“Oh, I see Neji's car,” Naruto said, pointing. Gaara barely heard him over the din. He followed behind Naruto, keeping as close as he dared without touching, avoiding the gazes of every person they passed. 

This was fine. He could do this. It was just like being at school—a very loud, lawless school. 

Naruto held the door open for Gaara, giving him another smile that Gaara barely registered. He was determined not to panic, but he could feel his control slipping with each step. He couldn't decide if it was the noise or the number of people, but he felt himself being pushed over the edge with each passing moment. 

The door closed behind them and the noise from outside diminished.

“It's quieter in here,” he muttered. 

“Yeah, the diners way more chill,” Naruto explained. “The arcade and outside is where all the action is. The owner is real nice. She used to work at my favourite ramen shop, but decided she wanted to run her own business.” 

Gaara listened with half an ear, staring around at the diner. It was a cute restaurant: Pastel and retro, with pale pink and blue booths and chairs, tables topped with games and mini jukeboxes, and the walls adorned with old-timey photos mixed with current pop culture. There were posters from fifty years previous next to posters of the newest and most popular anime. Gaara couldn't decide what the theme was actually supposed to be, but he appreciated that the owner had decided to sound proof the diner. 

It was still noisy, of course, and incredibly crowded, but Gaara determined that he could get through this if he didn't have to venture any farther than the table Naruto and his friends had commandeered.

Naruto led him past crowded tables, maneuvering them around bustling servers and teens who thought that hanging out in the middle of the restaurant wasn't an inconvenience. Gaara saw several people from Suna, but he kept close to Naruto, determined not to talk to anyone if he didn't have to. 

“There they are!” Naruto exclaimed loudly. He waved frantically, jumping up and down. 

“Naruto!” a pink-haired girl shouted. She waved in return, perching on her knees to be seen. Beside her sat a girl with startlingly blonde hair and bright eyes. 

“That's Sakura,” Naruto said, pointing to the pink-haired girl. “The one next to her is Ino.” 

Sakura had sat back down and Ino had immediately put her head on Sakura's shoulder. Gaara scanned the table, taking in each face carefully. They all seemed friendly enough, but Gaara felt dread coiling in the pit of his stomach.

Before he had properly braced himself, he was standing in front of the table with Naruto, who slung an unwelcome arm around him as he announced, “Everyone, this is my friend, Gaara!” 

“Hey!” 

“What's up?!” 

“Hi!” 

Gaara was frozen in place. He wanted to shove Naruto off of him and escape, but there were so many expectant smiles turned his way, so many curious eyes on him that he couldn't move. 

“So that's Sakura,” Naruto said again. “And Ino, her girlfriend.” Ino flipped her hair at this, batting her lashes. Sakura shoved at her playfully and the two fell into a fit of giggles. “That's Sai,” Naruto went on, ignoring the giggling girls. Sai was sitting on the outside seat, next to Sakura. 

“Don't let that smile fool you,” Naruto warned, leaning in as if to share a secret though he didn't lower his voice at all. If anything, it rose in volume. Gaara tried to pull away. “He may act all innocent, but he's a flirt.” 

Sai smiled benignly up at Gaara. “It's nice to meet you.” 

Gaara nodded, but he couldn't speak. 

“Anyway,” Naruto said, glaring down at Sai, though it lacked any venom. “That there is Kiba,” he said, pointing to the young man across from Sai. He had his arm around the back of the booth, leaning close to a quiet girl with clear eyes and dark hair. “Next to him is Hinata.” 

Hinata blushed. “H-hello.” 

“And that's Neji,” Naruto continued. The person next to Hinata looked almost identical to her. He had the same long hair, the same clear eyes, and the same pale skin. He nodded to Gaara in greeting. “And that's Tenten—are you two dating yet? She and Neji keep acting like they don't like each other, but we all know better.” At this Tenten and Neji blushed, Neji glaring daggers at Naruto. 

“Shut up,” Tenten snapped. 

“He's obsessed with people dating,” Gara said flatly, the words coming unbidden. 

Everyone at the table laughed. “Aw, you tryna play match-maker, Naruto?” Kiba teased. 

Naruto glared, swatting at Kiba. “Shaddup! Or else.” Naruto cast a significant look between Kiba and Hinata. Kiba instantly shut his mouth. 

“Where was I? Oh, right. And that's Shikamaru—wait, where's Gejimayu?” Naruto asked. 

“He's on his way,” Tenten assured. “Hurry up and finish introductions!” 

“All right, so that's Shikamaru—he's the one in college.” Shikamaru held up two fingers in place of a wave. “And that's Chouji, and that's Shino.” 

Gaara took a moment to memorize each face and name, determined not to offend anyone. It was important to Naruto—for whatever reason—that Gaara know his friends, and if he were being honest with himself, beneath all the anxiety, he was curious if he could make it work too. It might be nice to have friends, even if he never got close to them. It would be affirming, proof that he was better. 

“Well sit down,” Sakura said. “Sheesh, Naruto, get your friend a chair!” 

Naruto grumbled something before heading off to find chairs to add to the end of the booth that was already packed to max capacity. Gaara stood awkwardly in the middle of the aisle, staring at the table of Naruto's friends. 

“Grab two!” Tenten called. 

“So,” Sakura said slowly, looking for something to fill the silence. “What school do you go to?” 

“Suna.” 

Kiba snorted. “Suna? Really? That sucks.” 

“Why?” 

Kiba shifted. “I mean, I hear it's a tough school. Teachers give out a lot of homework and shit.” 

Gaara nodded. “They do.” 

“Uh, right.” Kiba pulled a face, staring at Gaara oddly. He felt his skin crawl under the judgment of Kiba's gaze. He swallowed, looking around for Naruto.

“So why haven't we met you before?” Ino asked. 

Gaara glanced at her. “Naruto and I haven't spoken in years.” 

“Gee, I wonder why,” Kiba snarked under his breath. Gaara heard him, even over the chatter of the other diners. 

He should have known this would be a bad idea. He should have taken the out Kankurou had offered him when he'd had the chance. He could excuse himself and text Kankurou now—he'd only be stuck with these people for half an hour at most if he did.

“Here ya go!” Naruto shouted, setting two chairs down and pushing Gaara into one. “Move over, Sai!” Sai did not oblige, but that did not deter Naruto in the slightest. He climbed onto the booth, stepping between Sai and Sakura before plopping down and spreading his arms along the back of the booth. Everyone squeezed closer, and Sakura ended up in Ino's lap, though this seemed only to please Ino. 

Gaara sat stiffly, staring down at his hands which were white knuckled against his knees. 

“Did you guys already order shakes?” 

“Yup,” Sakura said. “I got yours already. Sorry, Gaara, I didn't know what you would want.” 

Gaara shook his head. “It's fine.” 

The group fell into easy conversation, chatting casually while they waited for their shakes to arrive. Gaara watched on, confused and out of place, unsure how to become a part of this group and even more unsure if he wanted to. He didn't understand how they could talk to one another so easily, how they could sit so close, how they could share such easy smiles and laughter between themselves. Gaara had never had that, not even with Naruto. Socializing had always been daunting and difficult for him, but in such a large group and with so much noise around him, it felt like torture. 

“I've got shakes!” a voice said behind him. Gaara jumped, narrowly avoiding knocking the server over as she arrived with a tray loaded with shakes. “Oh, careful there!” She smiled down at Gaara and he quickly looked away. “All right, I've got two strawberry shakes,” she announced, passing them along. “A double chocolate fudge, a cookies 'n' cream...” She rattled off each shake, passing each one out to the eager teens. 

“And I believe,” she said, as she handed off the last one, “that I did not get your order.” 

“I haven't looked at a menu,” Gaara said. 

“Well, then I will be right back with a menu!” 

Before Gaara could protest, she was already marching away to fetch one for him. He didn't want a shake. He still felt queasy, his stomach all in knots and his whole body thrumming with suppressed anxiety. 

“They have the best shakes,” Sakura said kindly. “If you want, you can try mine before you order.” 

Gaara stared at the offered shake. Her hand held her straw in place, as though she expected him to lean forward and take a sip. He shook his head. “Thank you, I'm all right.” 

“Gaara's weird about that stuff,” Naruto explained. “Right? You don't like germs.” 

Gaara glared. “No, Naruto. I don't like being touched.” 

“Sorry, sheesh. I thought it was a germ thing.” 

“You're an idiot,” Sakura told him, but there was a fondness in her voice that belied the insult. “And don't worry about it, Gaara. We'll respect your boundaries.” 

Gaara didn't know if he was prepared to believe that—Naruto certainly had a hard time with it—but he felt himself relax minutely nonetheless. “Thank you.” 

“Don't mention it.” Sakura beamed. 

It wasn't long before the server returned with a menu for Gaara, and though he still didn't feel like having a shake, he took it and began looking it over, thankful to have an excuse to avoid conversation for a little while. The menu was a large, three page affair with two pages dedicated to shakes alone. Gaara stared down at the list of shakes, almost as overwhelmed by it as he was by the people around him. 

“I am so sorry I am late, everyone!” a familiar voice exclaimed. 

“Don't worry about it, Lee,” Tenten said. “We know how it is with Kung Fu. Did Gai-sensei drop you off?” 

Gaara looked up to find himself staring at Rock Lee's earnest face. Lee was smiling from ear-to-ear, his hair a bit wet and sticking to his forehead. The moment he spotted Gaara his eyes went wide and his smile grew, blinding and familiar. 

“Gaara-san! What are you doing here?” he asked excitedly, forgetting Tenten's question. He took a seat in the empty chair that Naruto had snagged earlier, scooting close. 

“Naruto invited me.” 

“You two know each other?” Naruto asked, leaning forward, straw still in his mouth. 

“Oh,” Lee blushed, looking away. “Yes, I...” 

“He helped me put up fliers at your school,” Gaara said. He was watching Lee carefully, noting the embarrassed flush that was steadily creeping up his neck. “I had dropped them and he helped me collect them.” 

Lee beamed. “Yes! It was quite a lot of fliers too, so I helped him put them up around campus.” 

“What were the fliers for?” Naruto asked. 

“It was the tutoring fliers,” Gaara said. 

“You tutor?” Tenten asked. “What subjects?” 

“He does tutoring in all sorts of subjects,” Lee interjected. “It was quite an impressive list!” 

“Yeah, Gaara's a great tutor,” Naruto added. “He's tutoring me in literature.” 

Kiba laughed. “What a nerd.” 

“Shut it, dog breath. I bet you're failing all of your classes, anyways!” 

“Pft, you wish. I ain't stupid.” 

“Coulda fooled me!” Naruto shouted. 

“Both of you stop it before you get us kicked out again,” Ino snapped. “Honestly, you're both idiots.” 

Naruto huffed, crossing his arms and settling back into his seat. “Whatever. At least I'm getting help for it.” 

“Is he also able to help you with your dick?” Sai interjected. Naruto went beat red. 

“SHUT UP, SAI!” 

Naruto promptly got them kicked out for attempting to throttle Sai.

It was still horribly crowded in the parking lot, and music was being blasted from a car somewhere off in the distance. 

“Good job, Naruto,” Sakura huffed. “Now what are we supposed to do?” 

“Hey! It's not my fault! Sai was the one—”

“Sai's always the one,” Ino cut in. “You didn't need to rise to the bait.” 

Naruto huffed. “Whatever. Let's just go to the mall.” 

“I think I'll head back to my dorm,” Shikamaru said. “I've got homework to do anyways.” 

Chouji snorted. “More like a girl to flirt with.” 

Shikamaru had an excellent poker face, but his cheeks were pink. “Don't be ridiculous. I'm a dedicated college student, Chouji. I don't have time for women.” 

Everyone laughed. “Your lazy ass never has time for anything,” Kiba said, elbowing him in the ribs. “So, who's the babe?” 

Shikamaru grumbled, looking away. “It's nothing. She's just some girl.” 

“Some girl who's got you blushing,” Naruto prodded. Kiba laughed, leaning in. 

“Does she got big boobs?” 

“That is incredibly disrespectful!” Lee blurted. 

“Oh, come off it, Lee!” Kiba said. “Come on, Shikamaru, what's she like?” 

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. “She's bossy and intelligent and beautiful and she'd probably be able to kick both of your asses if you talked to her that way.” 

“Hey, man, no disrespect,” Kiba said. “I just wanted to know if she was hot.” 

“A college girl,” Naruto said wistfully. “Wish I was smart.” 

Sakura snorted. “You wish you were with Sasuke, dumbass.” 

Naruto glared at her, but surprisingly didn't say anything to the contrary. 

“Besides, Temari isn't interested in me,” Shikamaru said. 

Gaara froze. “Temari?” 

“Yeah,” Shikamaru said. “Why?”

“That's my sister.” 

“Oh, shit,” Kiba muttered. “Uh, hey man, I'm sorry I said that about your sister—”

Gaara was caught between the need to defend his sister and the anxiety that confrontation in a social setting triggered in him. It had been a long time since he'd lashed out at anyone, but this was his sister after all.

“Shikamaru's right,” Gaara said as Kiba apologized. “She could do you serious injury if she heard you talk about her like that.” 

Kiba paled and made a soft sound, almost like the whimper of a kicked puppy. “I swear, I didn't mean it! If I'd known—”

“You should not need her to be Gaara-san's sister to be respectful of her!” Lee interjected. He was beat red, his mouth turned down in a serious frown and his hands in fists. Gaara had never seen Lee look anything but polite and friendly. It was a relief to see that Lee, for all he was goofy and loud and far too polite, had depth of character. 

Tenten laughed. “Someday, Kiba, you're gonna say something to the wrong girl and she's gonna pummel you. I hope I'm there to watch.” Sakura and Ino nodded their agreement, and the three laughed uproariously, ignoring the glares Kiba shot their way.

“So, the mall?” Naruto asked. 

“Sounds good to me!” Sakura said. “I need to get a new sports bra anyways. I'm starting up boxing again next week.” 

Ino fanned herself. “You are the best girlfriend.” 

“Don't forget it, pig.” 

Gaara frowned. Was it normal for people to insult their significant others? It seemed so out of place with the way the two looked at each other, and it was yet more proof that Gaara was out of his depth. 

“I'm going to head home,” Gaara said. 

Naruto whined. “Come on, Gaara, you can't just leave! You only barely met everyone!” 

“I'm tired,” he said flatly. 

“You must have had a very busy week,” Lee said sympathetically. “I hope that you are taking care of yourself and finding time to rest!” 

Naruto snorted. “I don't think he knows the meaning of the word.” 

“I have a full schedule, but it's nothing I can't handle.” 

“If you are sure,” Lee said, biting his lip. “Perhaps Sunday...” 

“I have an important tutoring session that afternoon.” Gaara met Lee's gaze. It was strange to hear himself say it, but he had to admit that as difficult as Lee was to teach it was important to him that he do so. Helping Lee was so much like helping the students who attended the support group, and Lee's vocal appreciation had gone a long way to endearing him to Gaara. 

Lee was beaming and—if Gaara was not mistaken—there were tears in his eyes. “Really?” 

Gaara nodded. 

“Can't you at least come out tomorrow?” Naruto tried. 

“No.” 

“Fine, I guess I'll drive you back to your car—”

“Don't worry about it. My brother will pick me up.” 

“We'll wait with you then,” Sakura offered. 

“That's okay,” he said quickly. While he might not enjoy the loud and overly crowded parking lot, especially on his own, the thought of asking any of them to stay with him made him feel uneasy, as though he were inconveniencing them. 

“Are you sure?” Ino asked. “We don't mind.” 

“I'm sure.” 

Ino and Sakura exchanged looks, and before they could argue Lee chimed in. “I will stay with you, Gaara-san.” 

The way he said it made it sound as though he were doing something particularly admirable or heroic. Gaara looked into Lee's face, confused but not completely willing to forgo Lee's company. At least he knew Lee a bit more than the rest, and for all that Lee was terribly loud he was nice and Gaara was helping him with his tutoring.

“Lee,” Tenten groaned. “You don't drive. How are you gonna get to the mall to meet us?” 

“It will be excellent practice for our first track meet!” Lee declared. “I can challenge myself! If I do not make it to the mall in thirty minutes—”

Neji and Tenten groaned in unison. “Here he goes.” 

“This is your fault,” Neji muttered. “You encouraged him.” 

Lee was hardly paying attention as he described the challenge he was setting forth for himself and the punishments that would follow should he fail. Gaara watched in wide-eyed fascination, unlike the rest who seemed quite used to this. 

“My brother can drop you off,” he found himself saying. Immediately he felt a thrill of anxiety. Lee had the strangest power to make Gaara say things he would never in a million years think to say. First the offer to tutor him with a free session, then the fact that he had a cat, and now this. Was this what friendship was like? He felt as though he were floundering at sea, lost in a storm that hit without warning and then disappeared just as quickly. 

“Oh,” Lee said, the excitement of his challenge going out of him. It was quickly replaced with a grateful smile. “That is very kind of you! If you are sure it is not too much trouble.” If it had been anyone else, Gaara might have thought they were simply saying so to seem nice, that they didn't really want to accept the offer. But Lee was too genuine and sincere, too accepting of Gaara when he was sure he didn't deserve it. 

“It's fine,” Gaara said. Kankurou was going to be a nightmare after this, but it was the least he could do if Lee was going to wait with him. Eventually his brother would tire of his teasing, and everything would go back to normal. Or as normal as it could be with his life suddenly so topsy-turvey. 

“Great!” Lee gave him a thumbs up, beaming for all he was worth. “Then I shall see everyone at the mall shortly!” 

The others said their goodbyes, leaving Lee and Gaara to wait for Kankurou to arrive to rescue Gaara from the hell of socializing. 

***

Gaara had underestimated Kankurou's abilities as an older brother. He'd known that Kankurou would give him shit about Lee once he'd met him, he'd known that once they'd dropped Lee off at the mall there would be teasing, but he hadn't realised just how much teasing there would be. 

Usually, the only fodder Kankurou had was the people who had crushes on Gaara, but since Gaara barely registered the attention it seemed Kankurou didn't get as much enjoyment out of any crush-related teasing. But for Kankurou, Lee was prime teasing material. When he'd pulled up the drive of The Valley and seen Lee standing beside Gaara, chatting away with all the exuberance he seemed to have in spades, Kankurou's eyes had gone wide; and when Gaara had introduced Lee, a slow smile had spread across his face. 

“Oh, so _this_ is Lee,” he had said, gleefully. 

Gaara had known then and there that he was in for endless torment. 

Kankurou did not disappoint. He interrogated Lee the entire drive to the mall, asking him all sorts of probing questions from “What are your intentions with my brother?” to the more basic “What year are you?” By the time they'd arrived at the mall, Gaara had learned more about Lee than he'd ever wanted or needed to know—he was just Lee's tutor, after all, there was no reason to know personal information about him. 

Once they had dropped Lee off, the teasing began. 

Thirty-six hours later, it still hadn't let up. 

“Gonna go see your new _friend_?” Kankurou practically sang as Gaara got ready for his tutoring session with Lee.

Gaara ignored him. It did not help.

Kankurou sauntered into Gaara's room and flopped onto his bed, grinning from ear to ear. 

“What are you and the Bowl-Cut doing today, hmm?” 

“I'm tutoring him, Kankurou. You know this.” 

“Riiight. 'Tutoring.' Is that what you kids call it these days?” 

“You're only a year older than me,” Gaara pointed out. “I told you, Lee's just a client. We're not friends.”

“So, he calls you all the time because, what? He has math questions?” 

Gaara glared. “He's only ever called about tutoring, Kankurou.” 

“That's how it starts,” Kankurou warned, leaning forward and dropping his voice to a whisper. “That's how they get ya. One minute, you think it's just professional. Then, suddenly—Bam! They're inviting you places, trying to learn more about you, introducing you to their parents.” Kankurou leaned back, looking satisfied. “You mark my words: your days of being a lone wolf are over.” 

Gaara rolled his eyes, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Whatever.” 

“Should I wait up? Or do you think your friend will keep you late again?” 

“I'll be home by five at the latest,” he snapped. 

Kankurou chuckled. “Tell Bowl-Cut I said hi!”

***

“You're doing much better.” Gaara looked past the mock-test to Lee's anxious expression. “You're really starting to get it.” 

The anxiety in Lee melted away as a smile blossomed on his face. He leaned forward, intent to look at the corrections Gaara had made. It took all of Gaara's self control not to flinch away, but he steeled himself, determined that he wouldn't let his anxiety get the better of him today. Lee didn't so much as touch him as he leaned into his personal space, however. He was close—closer than Gaara usually allowed people besides his siblings—but not so close that there wasn't space between them, not so close that accidentally turning his head would cause them to come into contact. 

Gaara visibly relaxed. 

“You are an amazing teacher,” Lee whispered. Gaara stared into Lee's expression, taking in the tears in his eyes. He wondered at how easily Lee cried, at how readily he shared his emotions with the world. It was strange and a little unsettling for Gaara. He never knew if he should be comforting Lee, or if he should let him go through the motions on his own. 

“You're a good student.” He settled on ignoring the fact of Lee's tears, if only because acknowledging them would make him uncomfortable. “You're dedicated and determined. I wouldn't expect you to struggle forever given the right tutelage.” 

Lee's lip trembled. “Thank you, Gaara-san. That means a lot to me. No one has ever—it is very special to hear you say that.” He turned his smile on Gaara, ten-thousand watts of joy staring him in the face with a scant ten inches separating them. Gaara felt the air leave him in a heartbeat; they were too close, he needed space. 

He stood up suddenly, dropping Lee's mock-test onto the coffee table. “Bathroom,” he said stiffly. 

Lee pointed down the hall, his smile slipping to a meager nine-thousand watts. Gaara nodded and quickly departed for the bathroom, trying to maintain his breathing as he went. It would be all too embarrassing to have Lee see one of his panic attacks, and he could only imagine the tears if he had to explain that Lee's proximity had caused it. 

He splashed cold water onto his face, breathing deeply and counting down from one-hundred. In the other room, he could hear Lee talking to his tortoise. 

“I cannot believe it, Ningame! Math is my worst subject, but Gaara-san thinks I am doing really well!” 

Gaara smiled, despite the anxiety. He would probably never understand Lee's strange earnestness, but it was endearing. He huffed, shaking his head of all thoughts and re-focused on counting down. The anxiety tickled his stomach, a brief fluttering of butterflies before it ebbed to manageable levels once more. He took in one last deep breath, then returned to the living room where Lee was leaning over his tortoise's tank and feeding him lettuce.

“Are you hungry?” Lee asked over his shoulder, instead of the obvious and uncomfortable “Are you all right?” 

Lee's tact was rather astounding and it took Gaara a moment to answer. “Yes, actually.” 

“Great! Gai-sensei said it would be fine if we ordered take-out! I never order take-out—it is simply not the way to a healthy body, but Gai-sensei said sometimes, on special occasions it is nice to splurge.” 

“My brother and I eat mostly take-out,” Gaara admitted. 

“You do? Then perhaps you would rather something home cooked?” 

“I can't stay late, actually, so take-out is fine.” 

Lee grinned. “Then next time I shall make you a home cooked meal!” 

“If you insist.” 

“I do,” Lee said with a winning smile, then disappeared into the kitchen. He came back out a moment later with his phone in hand and several take-out menus. “Here you go!” 

“Don't you want to pick?” 

Lee shook his head. “You are the guest, so it is your choice!” 

Gaara had never had a friend over to his house, nor did he go to other peoples' homes, and so etiquette with visitors was entirely unknown to him. He'd have to accept Lee's statement as fact and remember it for the future. He scanned the names of the restaurants before spotting a familiar looking logo. “This place.” 

“The Little Cactus?” Lee grinned. “They have excellent curry!” 

“I've never had their curry, but their gizzard is good.” 

Lee nodded sagely. “That does not surprise me. It is an excellent choice. Did you want to order the gizzard, or something else?” 

“Just the gizzard special.” 

Lee gave him a quick thumbs up, then wandered back into the kitchen to place the order. Gaara stared around the small living room, shifting uncomfortably. Did Lee expect him to follow him into the kitchen? Should he sit back down? Could he look at the tortoise? The silence of his indecision was stifling and he dithered even longer, feeling the tell-tale creep of anxiety returning. Quickly deciding that standing around in Lee's living room was the least appealing option, he shuffled into the kitchen where Lee was leaning against the counter and talking animatedly on the phone. 

“Yes, sir,” he said politely. “Yes. And then could I also order two of the Super Curry Specials, extra hot? Oh, yes, I am certain I can handle it. I love spicy food! Oh, no, they are both for me. Yes, I am aware they are very large portions. How much will it be?”

He listened intently, giving Gaara another thumbs up as he nodded along to what the man on the other end was saying. 

“Thank you very much! We shall see you shortly!” Lee hung up with a flourish, beaming at Gaara. “They will be here in forty minutes.” 

“Good, that will give us time to work on the next lesson.” 

“Absolutely! And if I do not begin to understand the concepts by the time they arrive, I shall do two-hundred laps at school tomorrow!” 

Gaara stared at Lee, his expression caught between concern and amusement. “That seems excessive,” he finally said as they returned to the living room. 

“That is nothing,” Lee said, waving off the comment. “One time I did five-hundred laps and Gai-sensei had to take me to the hospital.” 

Gaara shook his head. “You are very strange.” 

Lee flushed, looking away. “I get that a lot,” he agreed. 

Gaara felt his prickling anxiety worsen. He hadn't meant it as an insult, it was rare that he had anything mean to say to anyone these days, but entirely without meaning to he'd hit a nerve. He wondered, in the moment between when his anxiety grew worse and he tried to find the appropriate words to apologize, how many people had made Lee feel less than good about himself. 

“I'm sorry,” he said awkwardly. “I didn't mean to upset you.” 

It was pathetic, as far as apologies went, but Lee didn't seem to care. His smile returned, not quite as forceful, but just as sincere. “That is okay.” 

Gaara didn't think it was particularly okay, and without understanding the why of it, he found himself angry that anyone had ever made Lee feel bad about himself. It didn't seem right that someone so nice could be treated so poorly. Gaara was used to being ostracized; to being called weird and scary; to being alone; and no matter how often he tried not to think so, he knew he deserved it. Lee, on the other hand, couldn't possibly have deserved to be mocked and ridiculed.

Settling back into their work, Gaara quietly realized that maybe he did consider Lee a friend after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, the title of this chapter is from a Queen song, this one is from ["Good Company"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQo5tqwAwgE)
> 
> Also, please if you notice any spelling or grammatical errors, let me know!


	4. My Mind Straying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaara likes routine, rigid and predictable routine. His schedule makes him feel stable, knowing what's coming helps him feel prepared to meet the challenges life throws his way. But a new social life has him floundering, trying desperately to feel balanced in new and confusing situations that he both wants and doesn't want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy! I cannot believe I'm finally updating this. I really did mean to update this Sunday, but unfortunately this chapter got away from me and I spent all day writing and still didn't finish it. So here it is, finally! I may be behind, but this will not push any of my other update days back. I fully intend to stick to my schedule, and I think it'll only get easier to do so once I'm done working two jobs and fully transitioned back into Starbucks. I made myself [a posting schedule](http://lovelyloonylovegood.tumblr.com/post/169608569913/2018-writing-update-schedule) for anyone who is curious to know when things will be updated and what things I plan on focusing on this year. 
> 
> Some of the formatting on this is super annoying because I was trying to get the text messages to be in a different font and also indented but i'm super tired and don't wanna keep trying to look up the html for that--if anyone has any insight feel free to drop it in the comments! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

The bombardment of messages began that night after returning home from tutoring Lee. 

The first message was a voicemail notification, and Gaara didn't need to look to know that it had come from Lee. The time stamp on the voicemail told him that Lee'd called him on the thirty-minute drive from Lee's place back home. Gaara shook his head, smiling softly without realising it, as he listened to Lee's enthusiastic thanks, sitting quietly in his car. A strange calm settled over him as the message ended. His finger hovered over the delete button for a brief moment before he changed his mind. 

He hit the “Text Reply” icon, typing out a quick message before hitting send. He slipped from his car, still smiling. There was no real reason for it, but he felt content. 

The moment came crashing down around him as he stepped inside and Kankurou's voice drifted to him. 

“What's got you in such a good mood?” he asked before Gaara had even managed to close the door, a knowing lilt to his voice. 

Gaara glared at him in response before disappearing into his room to avoid further interrogation. He had plenty of homework to use as an excuse to avoid his brother and the teasing he would surely have to endure from him. One thing Kankurou never did was bother him while he was studying. It had always been an unspoken rule, and Gaara could not have been more grateful for it as he lost himself to his work, forgetting all about Kankurou's teasing for a few blissful hours.

The next message came in the form of a text from Temari, just before dinner that night. 

**the valley huh how was it**

“Did you tell Temari about Friday night?” Gaara asked Kankurou as he entered the living room. The smell of food and Temari's text had pulled him from his isolation, but it wouldn't last long if Kankurou started teasing him again. 

“What?” Kankurou called from the kitchen where he was setting out their dinner. 

“Friday night,” Gaara repeated, entering the kitchen. “Did you tell Temari?” 

“'S'not my business to tell,” he said offhandedly, peering into one of the boxes of take-away. 

Gaara rolled his eyes, opened his mouth to call Kankurou out on his lie, then promptly remembered Shikamaru. He frowned. “Oh.”

“She can't make it tonight, by the way,” Kankurou added, glancing up at Gaara. “Studying.” 

Gaara gave a thoughtful hum, opening the text from her again and sending a quick reply. 

**How's Shikamaru?**

He hoped Temari would be sufficiently annoyed and that it would discourage her from becoming overbearing and protective as she so often did with him. He appreciated her concern, he always did, but he liked his space and he liked his privacy, and sometimes Temari forgot that it was okay to give him space; sometimes she forgot that things were different now and that he wasn't going to relapse and be too far for her to reach again. 

Kankurou, on the other hand, was just emotionally constipated enough that instead of becoming an overbearing older brother, he just teased Gaara more than was strictly necessary, got quietly concerned when he thought Gaara wasn't looking, and then ran to talk to Temari.

“So how was Lee's?” Kankurou asked. Gaara hesitated a moment, searching for the teasing note in Kankurou's voice from earlier. He sounded sincerely interested though, so he deigned to answer. 

“Good. He's improving,” Gaara said simply as his phone vibrated once, then again, and then once more for posterity's sake. 

**you little shit**  
**hes annoying just like you  
** **he says hi**

Amused, Gaara sent a brief 'hi' back. 

“Who you textin'?” 

“Temari. She asked about Friday.” 

“How'd she find out?” 

Gaara rolled his eyes. “One of Naruto's friends goes to Kage U and knows her.” 

“Small fuckin' world,” Kankurou said. 

“He likes her,” Gaara added as an after thought. With that information, Kankurou would hopefully forget all about teasing Gaara on his new found social life. 

“No shit,” he said, shaking his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. Hook, line, and sinker. 

Gaara hid his own answering grin as he grabbed his box of take-away. “I'm eating in my room tonight,” he said. “I have work to catch up on.” 

“Aw, come on! Don't you wanna tell me all about Lee's?” he whined, and Gaara had to fight the urge to groan because the teasing was back. “I gotta make sure he's treatin' ya right, kid.” 

“Shut up,” Gaara snapped, but there was very little bite in the words. 

He shouldn't have underestimated Kankurou's abilities to tease both of his siblings at once, and before Kankurou could gain any steam he rushed back to his room. 

***

Monday dawned, familiar and safe, the way it had been before he'd started tutoring again. 

Not behind on his work, Gaara had managed to get a solid five hours of sleep, and was hoping to put any and all hiccups in his schedule to bed. He had a full day planner to contend with and absolutely no time to spare, and the relief to be back to his regular routine washed over him as he settled in his car and started the engine. 

Kankurou, now full swing into rehearsals, was back to driving his own car to school, which meant Gaara had full control over the music he listened to on the drive there. He scrolled through his music before settling on something familiar. Soft notes washed over him, filling the car and setting his mind at ease: Everything was back to normal, no more Friday night's out to worry about or unexpectedly long tutoring sessions. Just him and his too-full schedule. 

The school day rushed by him in a blur of familiarity, and by lunch Gaara was in a decent mood. 

Then his phone vibrated. 

The display told him, quite clearly, that Naruto had decided that he truly did want to keep up their friendship, despite the four years of silence that had defined it before. Gaara took a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst as he opened the message. 

**Yyo gara!!!!! u wanna go to the movies wit me n sakura-chan 2nite**

Gaara set his phone down carefully, placing his hands on the table before him and breathing deep. It was just a movie, after all, and though Naruto was as terrible at remembering Gaara's boundaries as ever, he was a friend. Gaara cherished that friendship more than he knew how to put words to, and he didn't want to ignore Naruto's renewed attempts at maintaining that friendship. What if by refusing to spend time with him it only pushed Naruto away? Surely he could handle one movie. While the addition of Sakura was not ideal, it was bearable. She'd been pleasant, understanding, and seemed much calmer than Naruto. He imagined that, if Naruto did become too much, Sakura was one of the few people capable of reigning him in. 

His phone went off again. 

**inoll be there 2 and sai**

Gaara looked to the ceiling of the library, silently asking it what he'd done to earn such suffering? 

A sick feeling coiled in his stomach. He knew exactly what he'd done in his life, and even if the library ceiling—being inanimate and not of divine origin—didn't smite him for being ungrateful and asking such a question, he felt the guilt eat at him like a demon chewing at his soul. He should be glad that Naruto wanted to spend time with him again. Wasn't it proof that he wasn't the person he'd been five years ago? Wasn't it proof that he was better; proof that people cared? 

He pressed a hand to his forehead, cringing at the thoughts that were trying to drive themselves to the forefront of his mind. He couldn't listen to this, he couldn't indulge in that way of thinking. He gripped his hair, taking a deep breath, forcing himself to count down from one-hundred until the thoughts were chased away. 

His phone went off again, sending vibrations through the wood of the table. 

**plzzzzzzzz**

Gaara could practically hear the whine in Naruto's voice. 

With his mind still fighting against conflicting thoughts and distracting from his homework, he picked up his phone. 

**I can't tonight. Tomorrow?**

If this was going to be his life, he needed a chance to adjust, a chance to rework his schedule, and a chance to breathe. He couldn't just change his life on a whim, and certainly not on someone else's whim. He liked order, he liked routine. He was a creature of habit because it kept him stable, made the world make sense. 

He doubted Naruto would understand that though. 

His phone jittered on the table again with Naruto's reply. 

**Aawwwww man :( fine tomorrow nite meet us at 7  
** at monument im buying the tickets XD

Gaara quit the messaging app, hopeful that this would be the one and only interruption to his day, and praying desperately that the rest of his week would not be derailed by more unexpected plans. 

***

Gaara had jinxed himself. 

He stared down at the missed call notification, wide eyed and just a little frantic. He had a student council meeting to focus on, but his phone had gone off half-way through, sending him spiraling down the dark rabbit hole of anxiety. He leaned against the wall outside of the classroom the council met in, breathing deeply. 

**Missed Call: Rock Lee (Konoha/Math Tutoring) 4:23PM**

It was officially a terrible day, and the week was not looking any better. 

If the messages didn't stop coming soon, he was going to chuck his phone. Stealing himself, he pressed play and listened to the message, dread rolling over him like ice cold water. 

“Gaara-san!” Lee's enthusiastic voice was scratchy with volume, the phone unable to deliver a clear sound from how loud he'd spoken into it. “Please forgive me if I am calling at a bad time. I am at track, so I promise I will be quick. I was speaking with Gai-sensei about our tutoring—he is thrilled to know that I am doing so well in math! He said that you must be an excellent tutor and that he would very much like to meet you, and I was wondering...” The long pause in Lee's ramblings had Gaara pulling the phone back to check if the message had cut him off, but it hadn't. He returned the phone to his ear, listening carefully. In the background, he could hear the noise of another loud voice, deeper than Lee's shouting what sounded like the words “Embrace your youth, students!”

Gaara frowned. 

Lee's voice returned, hesitant but firm. “I would like to invite you to stay for dinner Sunday evening! Since you will already be at my house, I thought that would be the most convenient for you. I do not want to interfere with your busy schedule, after all!” 

Gaara let out a slow, shaky breath. Dinner. At Lee's. 

“I did promise that I would make you a home cooked meal,” Lee's voice went on, warm but with the faintest edge of hesitation, only noticeable because Lee wore his heart on his sleeve. “If you do not want to, I understand. I know that we are—that you are just my tutor, but I would like very much to be friends! And Gai-sensei wanted to meet you, as well! I should return to my practice, but please call me back as soon as you can! I hope you have a good day, Gaara-san!” 

The message ended, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. Gaara stared ahead at the opposite wall, eyes searching it for answers. It did not provide him with any. Automatically, he slid his phone into his pocket and returned to the meeting, only one thought in his mind: He never should have taken those fliers to Konoha High. 

***

It was bad enough receiving yet another invite to another social event by Naruto; it was somehow worse receiving one from Lee because there was somehow more expectation involved—what if this Gai-sensei didn't like him? What if he took one look at Gaara's scarred forehead and dark rimmed eyes, and decided that Lee shouldn't socialize with someone so obviously unstable?

He could decline Lee's offer, tell him he had too much work, but he could already hear Lee's voice as he attempted to accept Gaara's refusal. 

“O-oh,” he would say, like a kicked puppy. “That is all right! I completely understand! After all, you are—you are very busy!” 

Gaara shook his head, staring blankly at the homework he was trying desperately to do. 

“Fuck,” he growled, throwing his pencil down. 

He'd turned his phone off once he'd gotten home. He did not want to deal with anymore texts, calls, voicemails—anything. No notifications. No more vibrations thrumming through his desk and straight to his bones like a shot of anxiety. No more. Yet his eyes slid to it, almost expecting it to be on with a hundred new voicemails and texts. He wondered if Lee had tried calling him again. 

He knew he shouldn't keep Lee waiting. It was rude to leave anyone waiting long and Lee, who had probably never so much as said a rude thing in his life, didn't deserve that. Gaara's mind offered up images of Lee, waiting eagerly for a response, only to be disappointed. He was so impossibly sensitive and so much more baffling to Gaara because of it. He was bad enough at dealing with people, but meeting Lee felt as though Gaara had crash landed on an uncharted planet and come face-to-face with alien life. 

Lee's emotions were intense and genuine and he seemed to jump from one to the next in seconds, without rhyme or reason. Gaara wasn't good at nuance of emotion and Lee seemed to have it in spades. 

Sighing, he turned his phone back on. 

If he didn't give Lee an answer, he was never going to be able to focus on his work. 

He waited for his phone to boot up, leaning back in his chair. Shukaku took the opening and jumped into his lap, kneading his thighs with sharp claws. Gaara waited, holding his breath as his phone's display came up. 

A moment later, a notification popped up from an unknown number. 

Gaara stared at it, his heart racing. The only people who contacted him were people who's number he had saved in his phone. He didn't get unknown callers, he didn't get texts from strangers. Somehow, it made sense though: his day had already been so full of unexpected correspondences, this could only be the logical follow up. 

No longer fully present, Gaara clicked on the message. 

**Hey Gaara! This is Sakura from Friday night.  
** **I took your number from Naruto's phone. Sorry.  
** **You seem like the kinda guy who doesn't just give  
** **his number out but I really wanted to text you  
** **because Naruto has been insufferable about you  
** **socializing and I know nothing I say to him will get  
** **through his thick skull. Anyway you seem like a great  
** **guy and I'd love to be friends but I don't want you  
** **to feel pressured by Naruto. I love him despite what  
** **an idiot he is I really do. Hes a good guy with a big  
** **heart but he's not always the brightest when it comes  
** **to what other people want. He thinks he knows whats  
** **best for everyone but he doesnt. Its partly cause of  
** **Sasuke... Okay you don't need me to psychoanalyze Naruto  
** **but the point is I know how he is and I got the sense  
** **that you were uncomfortable Friday night so if youre not  
** **up to the movies tomorrow Ill run interference. Just let  
** **me know! XO**

Gaara read the message three times before fully processing it. 

The anxiety that had crept up on him at the sight of the unknown number eased with each reading and he let out a relieved breath. His world was still as strange and unsettling as it had been for weeks, but now he had an ally in all of it. It was a little jarring to have Sakura reach out to him, but he could only be grateful for her forthrightness. 

Taking another moment to fully ground himself, he ran a gentle hand over Shukaku's back three times. It was always three—anymore than that and Shukaku would turn around and bite him. 

“Mrow,” Shukaku warned as Gaara, distracted by Sakura's message, went in for a fourth stroke. He paused, then reached out for his phone instead. 

He didn't know what to say to Sakura, and his usual brief “thanks” was simply not going to cut it. 

“Is this why you're always so crabby?” he asked his cat. 

Shukaku gave an annoyed yowl before jumping off of Gaara's lap, making sure he dug his claws in as he went. 

“Jackass,” he muttered as his cat slunk from his room. He returned to the text, frowning thoughtfully as he decided on how to reply. 

***

Kage Monument Theaters had put the original Valley of the End drive-in theatre out of business four years ago. It was a modern theater with all the trappings of the fast changing technology of the world. If teens weren't hanging out at The Valley on a Friday or Saturday night, they were catching a movie at Kage Monument. 

Gaara was not a movie person. He didn't mind watching something at home every so often with his siblings—Temari insisted on movie night at least once a month; (“It's important we spend time as a family” she always insisted.)—but that was the extent of his movie watching experience. 

Movie theaters were too big and too loud, as far as Gaara was concerned, but he still found himself standing outside the theater, shifting from foot to foot as he waited for Naruto and the others. Thankfully, the theater was blissfully quiet on a Tuesday night, with only a few movie-goers waiting in line for tickets or refreshments from what Gaara could see. 

His phone vibrated a continuous beat in his pocket and he pulled it from his jacket, checking the caller ID. 

It was Naruto, of course. He clicked ignore, switching straight to the text app, but before he could so much as type “where are you?” a loud voice shouted from across the street. 

“OI!!!!” 

Sure enough, Naruto stood, waiting for the traffic to die down, waving frantically at Gaara. Sakura, Ino, and Sai were with him, all blessedly quiet and composed.

He pocketed his phone, watching warily as Naruto booked it across the street, rushing towards him. 

“Naruto!” Sakura yelled, which was all the warning he had before she promptly tackled him to the pavement, dangerously close to Gaara. 

“What the hell, Sakura-chan?” he whined from the ground, wriggling beneath her. She jumped to her feet in one graceful motion, wiping at her pants. 

Ino snorted behind them. “She warned you.” 

Naruto grumbled, accepting Sakura's proffered hand and hauling himself to his feet. “Yeah, well, so did I-ttebayo. It's not like Gaara and I haven't known each other for years—”

“Which is why you should know better,” Sakura snapped, before turning to Gaara and smiling. “Hi, Gaara. Sorry we're late. This idiot thought he knew a short cut.” 

“Hey!” 

“Turns out it was the scenic route,” Ino explained. “Which means we have to catch a later showing. Hope that's okay? Lee mentioned you have a really busy schedule.” 

“I do,” Gaara said, nodding stiffly. Naruto's aborted greeting still had him tense, and he could hardly think past the anxiety in his chest. “It's fine. I rearranged my schedule.” 

“It wasn't too much trouble, I hope,” Sakura said. 

“I had to anyway,” he said, instead of the blunt “Yes, it was a lot of trouble,” that he wanted to say. “Lee invited me to sta—to his place for dinner on Sunday night.” 

He'd almost forgotten not to mention Lee's tutoring. He hadn't asked Lee about why he'd kept it from his friends, but he knew from past experience with other people that some found needing a tutor embarrassing. 

Naruto snorted. “Really? I'm surprised you agreed to that. Gejimayu doesn't seem like the kinda guy you'd wanna be friends with.” 

Gaara narrowed his eyes. “What's that supposed to mean?” 

Naruto shrugged. “Just that he's kinda—” Naruto squinted, searching for the words, oblivious to the glares Gaara and Sakura were sending his way. 

“Naruto,” Sakura warned. 

“Huh?” he asked, his expression clearing as he turned to her. “What? What?” 

“Don't talk about Lee-san like that.” 

“Wha—I'm not! I just mean he's a weird guy, ya know? And Gaara's got all those boundary issues—”

“Issues that,” Gaara began, voice tight, “Lee is much better at respecting than you.” 

Naruto deflated. “I respect your boundaries.” 

Sakura shared a look with Gaara, which was a novel experience. He wasn't used to people sharing much of anything with him, certainly nothing like the significant look of the eternally put upon. Clearly Sakura was the right person to have on his side. 

“You're as bad at respecting his boundaries as your dick is small,” Said said benignly. He grinned at Naruto, pleased as pie, while Naruto spluttered his indignation.

Gaara got the funny feeling that Sai had been waiting for an opening to comment on Naruto's dick for at least the last ten minutes. It was enough of a distraction and the subject of Lee was quashed as they finally made their way over to the ticket counter. 

“What are we seeing?” Gaara asked, as Naruto ran up to the young woman behind the counter. She had vibrant red hair and dark skin, and was wearing an expression that begged for release from her boredom. 

“Oh, look, it's the Konoha dogs,” she drawled. 

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Hey, Karui, what's up?” 

“Oh, the usual: abso-fucking-lutely nothing.” 

Ino laughed. “You seen Chouji tonight?” There was something familiar in her voice, the same teasing note Kankurou often used on him and Temari. 

Karui averted her eyes, huffing in annoyance. “I might have.” 

Ino laughed, nudging Sakura in the ribs. She leaned around Sakura, to whisper to Gaara, “She and Chouji have a thing.” 

Gaara did not understand everyone's need to explain the relationships of everyone they met, but he nodded at this new information nonetheless. “She wasn't there Friday,” he pointed out. 

“Nah, Karui's too good to join us, isn't that right, Red?” 

Karui rolled her eyes, printing the tickets for the movie that Naruto had ordered while Gaara was distracted. “Here ya go,” she said handing them over. “Just don't make a mess in there. I'm not paid enough to clean up dog shit.” 

“Nah, but you sure do like kissing one off the clock,” Sakura called as they made their way into the lobby proper. She and Ino giggled, following behind Naruo and Sai. 

“Do you guys wanna grab drinks and snacks?” Naruto asked, checking his frog wallet. 

“Ugh, no,” Ino said. “Isn't there a lot of water in this movie? I don't wanna miss something cause I need to go to the bathroom.” 

“What about snacks, though? We could get popcorn?” 

Sakura and Ino shrugged. “That sounds fine. We'll go grab the seats. You and Sai get the popcorn.” 

Naruto stuck his lip out. “Why does Sai have to come with me?” 

“Because you'll try and take a shortcut,” Sai said. “And then you'll just miss the movie.” 

“Come on, Gaara,” Sakura said, taking three tickets from Naruto. 

He followed them towards the ticket check, where another teen was waiting to take their tickets. 

“'Sup,” the young man said. “What're you seein'?” 

“Hey, Omoi,” Sakura greeted, handing the tickets over. 

“Ohhh,” he said, grinning. “Fish Dick.” 

Ino snorted. 

Sakura only rolled her eyes. “Ha ha,” she said. “You're as bad as Naruto. I hear this movie is really amazing.” 

“A cinematic masterpiece,” Ino said seriously, before giggles overtook her. 

Gaara was too confused to ask. 

“Nah, it's good,” Omoi agreed. “I just like callin' it Fish Dick, cause—well, you'll see.” 

Ino leaned forward, suddenly eager. “Wait. Wait a minute. Are you telling me that we actually get to see it? We actually get to see the fish—”

“Oi! I thought you guys were getting us seats?” Naruto said behind them, two huge buckets of popcorn between him and Sai. 

“You didn't get lost, I see,” Sakura said, heaving a huge sigh. “Oh well.” 

Naruto glared at her, aiming a kick at her shin that missed and nearly caused him to spill popcorn everywhere. 

“Watch it!” Ino snapped. 

“All right, all right,” Omoi said, ripping their tickets and handing over the stubs. “Theater nine on the right. Enjoy the fish dick!” 

“Naruto certainly will,” Sai said, and dodged a punch to the head just in time. 

The theater was wonderfully empty, with only two other people near the front. 

“Looks like Shikamaru came for moral support,” Ino whispered. “Hey, Chouji! Did you bring your girlfriend flowers?” 

Chouji jumped, spilling popcorn all over himself. 

“Leave him alone, Ino,” Shikamaru sighed. “He's practically in tears over here.” 

Ino softened, heading down the aisle towards them. “Oh, Chouji,” she said, pulling him into a hug. “It's okay. She likes you, I know she does.” 

“Let's sit back here,” Sakura said, shoving Naruto down one of the rows. Sai followed after, while Gaara waited, dithering on whether or not he wanted to sit next to someone he barely knew or sit next to Naruto. The worst option by far would be to be stuck between people. 

“Don't worry, you can sit next to me,” Sakura told him. “Ino can sit between me and Sai.” 

Gaara glanced at Sakura, an intent look in his eyes as he tried and failed to find the words to express his relief. “Thanks,” he said, when he was sure that he'd been staring too long. Temari had told him, a long time ago, that people didn't like being stared at for too long. He still caught himself staring too long and too hard in moments like this, but at least he was better about it than he used to be. 

“Don't mention it,” she said with a grin. “I'll go grab Ino before she starts crying over Chouji's girl troubles.” 

Feeling awkward and out of place, Gaara waited the few minutes it took Sakura to drag her girlfriend back to their group and wrangle her into the seat next to Sai. Sakura plopped into her own, cuddling close to Ino and leaving Gaara plenty of space in his seat next to hers. 

“Popcorn?” Ino asked, offering the bucket to Gaara. 

The lights dimmed as Gaara shook his head, and an abruptly loud orchestral note filled the room. 

“SHHHHHH!” Naruto hushed them all unnecessarily. “We don't want to disturb the other people in here!” 

“Shut up, Naruto!” Shikamaru called from the front. 

“Make me!” Naruto laughed, throwing popcorn down at Shikamaru. 

“Don't do that!” Chouji shouted. “You're gonna give Karui more work—”

“Ooohhh, Chouji and Karui sittin' in a tree—OW! Sakura-channnn!”

“Stop it, Naruto,” Sakura warned. “You're being a dick.” 

Sai snorted. “He has to to make up for how small his is.” 

Gaara wondered if Sai only ever talked about dicks, as he watched the exchange between the others with a mixture of curiosity and dread. This was the life Naruto was offering him, the life Naruto was dragging him into, whether he wanted it or not. 

The lights from the screen played off the expression on Sakura's face as her annoyance with Naruto melted, replaced by laughter; as blues turned to pinks in Ino's eyes, filled with amusement; as Sai smiled, pale face made eerie in the light from the screen; as Naruto opened his mouth to loudly complain. Rows down, Shikamaru and Chouji's silhouettes turned their own laughter towards the group. 

Gaara felt as though they were the film he was watching. He was captivated by the easy way they laughed and teased one another; the familiar way they touched, brushing against each other or smacking each other, even the brush of hands as popcorn was passed back and forth. 

They were all so comfortable, so happy together. 

His chest hurt with how badly he wanted to be a part of that. 

“Shhh, it's starting,” Ino whispered, taking Sakura's hand in hers. 

“Do you really think we'll see the fish dick?” Sakura whispered, giggling. 

“I hope not,” Sai said. “Naruto will be jealous when its bigger than his.” 

“HEY!” 

“QUIET” Karui's voice said from behind them. She was leaning against the wall, watching Naruto with narrowed eyes. “I'll kick you out, you know I will.” 

“Sorry,” Naruto said, mollified. He settled in, and Karui nodded, pushing off the wall and walking down to the front of the theater where Chouji and Shikamaru were sitting. 

Gaara watched this, forgetting to pay attention to the movie until a voice spoke, loud and clear. More interested in watching the people around him than the film, he had to tear his gaze away from them. It was so strange to be so close to this, yet feel like such an outsider. He forced those thoughts away, focusing his attention on the screen that was blue with the shape of water. 

As the film unfolded, Gaara's anxiety eased, little by little. 

His life was no longer what he was used to, but that didn't mean it was the end of the world. 

***

Gaara dreamed of water and music. 

A piano was playing somewhere, a familiar melody that eased him deeper under the waves. He floated, down into the soft sand of the ocean floor until it crawled between his toes like a day at the beach. He sighed, calm and content. His day planner swam past him like a fish, leading a school of textbooks and notebooks away. He watched them go, anxiety flaring in his chest before subsiding. 

He swam forward, following the school of books. 

Light shimmered through the water, laughter carrying on its streams. He looked around. 

Fish-people, familiar and friendly, floated beside him. 

He kept swimming, but this time he wasn't alone. They followed him, some closer than others, all laughing happily as they went. 

Gaara liked swimming with them. 

He thought it would be worth it if he never caught up to the school of books if they stayed with him. 

A wide-eyed, exuberant fish-person swam closer, accidentally brushing Gaara. Somehow, he didn't mind. 

“You should wake up,” the excited fish-person told him in a familiar drawl that didn't suit its energy. 

Gaara frowned. “What?” 

“Wake up!” 

Gaara startled, the dream heaving like a sigh, and the water shimmering around him. 

“Come on, lil brother! You're gonna be late!” 

The dream began to fade, little by little, water slipping from his hands. He opened his eyes to the early morning light filtering into his bedroom. Shukaku was on his chest, a heavy but comforting weight, and Kankurou stood in the door of his room, his expression one of quiet concern. 

“Damn kid, I thought you were dead. You're not normally that hard to wake up.” 

Gaara sat up, and Shukaku yowled as he rolled off of Gaara. “I was dreaming,” he said dazedly. 

Kankurou snorted. “Okay, well, hurry up. It's already after six.” 

Gaara stared after Kankurou with wide eyes. “Six,” he repeated. He glared at his cat. “You let me oversleep.” 

Shukaku licked his paws, innocent as you please, before jumping from the bed and yowling for his breakfast.

***

Waking up late was Gaara's least favourite way to start the day. Usually, it left him groggy and cranky, a little too wired from being jerked from sleep and a whole lot irritable for the wrench in his tightly structured schedule. 

Today, he was cranky but less groggy than he'd expected he would be. He'd gotten more sleep than he usually did, tired from the amount of socializing he'd done the night before. He'd done as much homework as he could muster, then promptly gone to bed, thirty minutes early. 

Somehow, despite the rough start to his day, the rest of it went smoothly. 

Classes and homework and routine. It all felt as unaltered as if he hadn't gone to the movies the night before. He watched the world go by around him, waiting for something to happen, anxiety curling at his toes like the sand in his dream. Nothing happened. 

He didn't know what he was waiting for anymore, but it never came, whatever it was. 

And then the day was over and the support group was starting. Gaara felt as though he were still floating through the water of his dream, swimming with fish-people he knew but didn't know. He'd tried to remember all parts of the dream, but it had become a haze in his memory. All that was left was the impression: floating and calm and sand between his toes. 

“I made cookies” Matsuri announced upon her arrival, Sari trailing after her. “I thought it would be a nice way to celebrate the anniversary of when Gaara-sama started this group!” 

The group cheered, crowding around Matsuri. 

Gaara watched this the way he'd watched Naruto and his friends the night before. He still felt as though he were watching a film, as though he could never step through the screen and be a part of that happiness and easy friendship. 

“Thank you, Gaara-sama,” Matsuri said, suddenly before him. She offered him the container of cookies, smiling. 

He blinked down at the array of heart-shaped cookies. Eventually, he took one, nodding to Matsuri. 

“We wanted to thank you,” Matsuri explained. “You've done so much for all of us here, and well...” She trailed off, blushing as she so often did under Gaara's scrutiny. 

“Without you, we wouldn't be where we are,” Karasu finished for her. “So we got you a gift.” 

Gaara sat, frozen in his place, staring at the group with wide-eyes. “What?” 

Everyone shared looks, some nervous and some amused. “A gift,” Karasu repeated. “This is from all of us. To thank you.” 

He held out a box, wrapped in paper covered with little turtles. His thoughts immediately jumped to Lee, as he automatically reached for the package, his body responding on its own as it so often did when he was overwhelmed. 

“But...” he tried. Words failed him. 

“Open it!” Sari said excitedly. 

The rest of the group egged him on, chanting, “Open it! Open it!” until Gaara finally slipped a finger beneath the paper and lifted its taped edge. Delicately, he removed the wrapping, careful to keep it intact as he slowly revealed the unassuming cardboard box hidden within. It was taped closed at the top and Gaara had to use his car keys to break the tape. 

Around him, time seemed to freeze as he lifted the flaps, revealing the contents of the box: a framed photo of their little group, a handmade card with heartfelt messages from each person, a little cactus plant in a pot shaped like a tortoise, a new day planner with the words “Make time for fun!” on a post-it note taped to it, and gift cards to a few local restaurants and the movie theater. 

The contents of the box blurred and before Gaara had realised it, he was crying. Quiet tears slipped down his face against his will, and he quickly wiped them away. He couldn't bring himself to look at everyone and he closed his eyes, clinging to the box as though it would keep him from floating away. 

“Thank you,” he said thickly. “I—I don't deserve this.” 

“Yes, you do,” nearly everyone said, stern but gentle, the way Chiyo had always been. 

He forced himself to look up and meet the expectant, caring gazes of everyone in the room. 

“You helped us, Gaara,” Matsuri said. “Of course you deserve this.” 

“We're all really grateful,” Sari agreed. 

“And we all care about you,” someone else added. 

“We know that you've been struggling recently,” another person said. 

Gaara was overwhelmed by their kindness. His eyes burned more, but he couldn't look away even as more tears fell.

“We just want you to know that we're here for you. That we're grateful for all you've done for us, and that we really care. You don't have to be alone.” 

Gaara nodded, his throat too tight for words. Unconsciously, he hugged the box closer to himself, as though he could simultaneously protect against this undeserved kindness and keep it close.

“Thank you,” he said again. “You are all very important to me, too.” 

There were several people sniffling, possibly outright crying, but no one said anything as they all took their seats and began their meeting. 

***

The rest of the week seemed to drag by.

Classes crawled at a snails pace on Thursday and Friday; homework took him a lifetime each night; and even sleep did not feel as brief as it usually did. As Sunday drew closer, Gaara felt simultaneously that it could not come quickly enough and that he wanted to keep it from coming at all costs. 

His week had been long, exhausting, emotional, and hard to process, and it wasn't even over. He still had dinner at Lee's, and he couldn't decide if he was excited or not. 

The movies had been an unexpectedly nice experience, one he was almost sure would be repeated judging by how Naruto continued to text him whenever he got the chance. The desire to be a part of such a dynamic had stayed with him, but so too did his anxiety. He could not shake it in a night, no matter what Naruto seemed to think, and dinner at Lee's was an even more daunting and confusing prospect. 

Kankurou was not helping him decide how he truly felt about it, because he'd taken the emotionally inept route of teasing Gaara relentlessly and leaving all the real emotional labor to Temari, who had texted Gaara a number of times since Tuesday. 

Shikamaru had told her, once again, that he'd seen Gaara out with Naruto, and she was on the war path—or rather, the path of the overbearing big sister. 

He couldn't imagine how bad she'd get if she knew about dinner at someone's house. Meeting someone's—parents? Lee had never really explained his living situation to Gaara and he'd never bothered to ask, determined to keep things as professional as possible (though he had clearly failed, and remarkably so, given the short period of time he had known Lee.) 

By Saturday night, Gaara was firmly on the side of his anxiety: staying at Lee's for dinner was a terrible idea. Gai-sensei was going to hate him. He was going to make Lee uncomfortable. He was going to fuck up whatever strange, unexpected friendship they'd formed, and he would hate himself all the more for failing Lee. 

He stared out the window of his bedroom, watching the dark sky. 

Hadn't he not wanted to tutor Lee? Hadn't he found Lee annoying and loud? Hadn't he considered dropping Lee when he'd realised how difficult it was going to be? He'd never experienced dyscalculia, but the research he'd done had proven that teaching Lee was going to be more work than most of his other clients. Yet he hadn't called it quits. 

The thought of telling Lee he couldn't help him made his stomach curl with loathing, and he hugged himself closer to his pillow, pressing his face into it, frustrated with himself, with his life, with Lee, with his mental illness—why couldn't he just be normal?! 

He growled, throwing his blankets off of himself and getting out of bed. He'd make tea, put on some music, and get some homework done. He wasn't going to be able to sleep at this rate, and if he didn't do something he was only going to be more upset with himself for wasting time. 

Shukaku stretched on his bed, jumping down and following Gaara into the kitchen. 

He filled the kettle and prepped his tea cup before slumping against the counter and sliding to the floor. 

“Mrow.” 

Gaara stared at Shukaku. His cat stared back, looking for all the world as though he were plotting a murder. 

“I wish I were a cat,” Gaara said flatly. “It would be easier.” 

Shukaku was either offended that Gaara thought his life was easy or put off by the idea of Gaara being a cat, because he turned and left, leaving Gaara sitting on the floor of his kitchen, having a crisis alone. 

He let his head fall back against the cabinets with a dull thunk, trying not to let his anxious thoughts plague him. 

“What is wrong with me?” he growled. 

A slew of things, he thought to himself with no small amount of irony. He hit his head against the cabinet again, trying to dislodge the thoughts that would not let up, trying to distract himself from the dread that was consuming him. 

_Lee's going to hate you._

“Lee isn't like that,” he told the kitchen without conviction. It did not agree or disagree. 

_But what if you're the exception_ , that treacherous voice told him. It lodged that thought in Gaara's mind, like an ax pick stuck in rock. He knew it would plague him all night and all the next day. 

“He's _not_ ,” he told himself, vehemently, voice rising. 

The tea kettle whistled, startling him from his thoughts. He got to his feet and poured the steaming water from the kettle into his mug, glaring at it for all he was worth. 

Who the hell did these people think they were, coming into his life and messing it up. 

He shook that thought away. That's not how he felt about the situation. He _liked_ having friends. He _liked_ going to the movies when there weren't a lot of people there. He _liked_ the way Sakura shared looks with him whenever Naruto did something stupid, and the way Lee was always so genuinely thankful, and the way Naruto insisted on texting him constantly. Hell, he even liked that Shikamaru had talked to his sister about him.

He was connected to people. He was a part of their lives and they were a part of his. He wanted it, had wanted it for so long that the wanting had become a fact of his life like the scar on his forehead and he'd started to take it for granted. It was only now that he had it that he could see what had been missing from his life. 

Hot water spilled onto the counter as his cup overflowed. 

“Shit,” he cursed, setting the kettle back on the stove. He grabbed a towel and quickly mopped it up, shaking his head and muttering to himself. 

“You still up?” Kankurou asked from the doorway, making Gaara jump. 

“Fuck, don't do that,” he snapped. 

Kankurou gave Gaara a long, hard look, searching Gaara's expression and taking in the tension in his body. He nodded. “Right, I'm calling Temari.” 

“It's two in the morning,” he snapped. 

“And you look like you're about to have an episode, so yeah, I'm calling her.” 

Gaara glared. “I am not having an episode.” 

Kankurou crossed his arms over his chest. “No?” 

Gaara hesitated. “I'm just—I don't know how to have friends.” 

“Right, and now you're freaking out, which is why Temari should be here.” 

“Why does she have to be involved?” Gaara threw back at Kankurou. Why couldn't Kankurou just deal with this? Why couldn't Kankurou listen to Gaara for once? Why did it always have to be Temari? Was he just a burden—

He shook his head, trying to force that thought away. 

“Fuck. Just—I just want to be alone.” 

“Nothin' doin', little brother,” Kankurou said, phone out and a call already in progress. 

“Just leave her out of this!” 

Kankurou took a step back, staring a little wide-eyed, but no less determined at Gaara. 

Through the phone's speaker, Gaara could hear Temari's voice, scratchy with sleep, “Hello? What's wrong?” 

“Hey, sis, sorry to bother you, but we need you.” 

Temari was silent for a moment, then, “I'm on my way.” 

The call ended. 

“Why can't you just—”

“Because I fucking care,” Kankurou snapped. “Okay? I get it, I'm not good at this stuff! I've never been good at it because our father was shit and then you were fucking cra—you wer—fuck!!!” 

Kankurou's feelings boiled over, making his words tumble from him without thought. He whirled around, a fist flying into the dry-wall with a sickening crack. He hissed, holding his hand at the wrist and cringing, tears welling in his eyes. 

“I'm not—I know I'm not always a good brother,” he said thickly, through emotion and pain, and Gaara hated himself for lashing out at Kankurou, for making his brother so upset that he'd punched a wall and maybe broken his hand. “I fuck up sometimes—I fucked up when you were a kid and we were being beat because our father was a drunk asshole, and if I didn't stand up for you then it meant I was safe. It meant—but then you were a terror. He made you—he did that to you. You were my little brother and I couldn't protect you.” 

Kankurou seemed to be falling apart, breaking like a glass sculpture. He fell to his knees, his hand bleeding and tears falling freely now, crying for the first time Gaara could ever remember. 

“C-could—you get me some ice?” 

Gaara propelled himself forward on autopilot, grabbing ice from the freezer and placing it in a towel while his brother hissed behind him. 

“Did—did you break it?” he asked, voice like a gross dead thing, unfeeling and cold. He couldn't do this, he couldn't face all the things between them that had long been buried in their family's closet of skeletons. 

“Don't think so,” Kankurou groused. “Just hurts like hell.”

“Good,” Gaara said, handing over the ice. 

They fell silent, and Gaara felt transported to the past. He could hear the voice of his father shouting drunkenly through the halls, feel his footsteps as he stomped through the house, could smell the alcohol burning his nose. 

“It's not your fault,” Gaara found himself saying. His voice didn't sound like his, or maybe it was always how he sounded: monotone, flat, detached. He floated above himself, watching the scene before him like a ghost, hearing the words he spoke, the voice he used, once again sitting in the movie theater, watching his life play out on a screen. 

Kankurou laughed humorlessly. “Yet here we are. You're having a fucking melt down and I gotta call Temari because I can't fucking deal.” 

“Temari was always better at dealing with my particular brand of crazy,” Gaara said, dry and humorless. 

Kankurou laughed, shaking his head. “Don't say that. You're not crazy.” 

“Kankurou, I _am_ crazy.” Gaara intoned, staring down at his brother. He wanted to laugh, felt like he was tipping over into giddiness which did not bode well and he had to quash the feelings down, like forcing food down the wrong pipe.

“No, you're not, you're just—you're just a lil' fucked up.” 

Gaara felt the laughter bubble again, but he couldn't fight it so well this time and his shoulders shook as he tried to suppress it. “Fucked up,” he repeated, giggling. “Y-yeah, that's what I am.” 

Kankurou stared up at him, his eyes a little wide and his expression unreadable. It had been a long time since Kankurou had looked that closed off and distant, and Gaara couldn't quite stop the giddiness, but it still brought him up short. He knew that look, he _hated_ that look.

A door slammed open, making Gaara's heart slam in his chest. He took a step back, tensing all over as he looked into the other room, sure their father was marching through the house. The sound of Temari's voice did not ease him. “Where are you guys? Is Gaara okay?” 

“In here,” Gaara called over the pounding in his heart, and whatever he'd felt before died instantly. Kankurou was still watching him with the distance of long-forgotten wariness, but he didn't want Temari to see him like that. He didn't want to make her cry again. 

“Kankurou punched a wall,” he told her. His voice had gone dead once more, empty and far away.

Temari barreled into the kitchen, pulling up short at the scene before her. She hadn't bothered to fix her hair, so it was flying in every direction, and she was still in her pajamas with only a thin sweater pulled on over her for warmth. The sweater, Gaara noted, was inside out and on backwards. 

“Fuck. What happened?” 

Kankurou spoke first, voice strained with pain. “Gaara was having a mental break down and we got in a fight about it.” 

“No, we got in a fight because he called you.” 

“Right. Because I'm incapable of expressing emotion.” 

Temari closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Gaara?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you stable?” 

“I don't know.” 

“I see. Do you feel like you're about to have an episode—breakdown—whatever?” 

Gaara hesitated analyzing his feelings closely, checking for the giddiness of moments before or the anxiety and self-hatred that had led them to this point. None of it was there. “I don't feel like anything.” 

Temari nodded decisively. “Right. Kankurou, is your hand broken?” 

“Dunno.” 

“Can you move your fingers?” 

Kankurou hissed as he tried to move his fingers. Stiff and slow, he managed to wiggle them. “Yup.” 

“Good. Not broken. Bruised, maybe fractured. We should go to the hospital. Get your coats.” 

“Temari—”

“Don't,” she snapped, cutting off Kankurou's protests. “I don't want to hear it. It is late, I spent the last thirty minutes panicking, imagining the worst. So. We are going to go to the hospital as a _family_ , get you checked out, and get Gaara's shit together. Got it?” 

They both nodded. 

“Good. Now get your fucking coats and get in the fucking car.” 

***

“I don't think you should go,” Temari said while they waited for Kankurou. He was getting his hand x-rayed, but they'd already been given the good news that his hand wasn't broken. The worst was behind them. 

“I have to.” 

“Why?” 

Gaara didn't know why. He didn't know anything. He flexed his hands, but quickly looked away. His hands felt wrong, looked wrong. He wasn't grounded yet. When he looked up, Temari was staring at him intently, her expression unreadable and serious. She was so much better at understanding emotions than Gaara or Kankurou, and her scrutiny made him uncomfortable. He didn't want her to understand what he was feeling before he understood it. 

“Gaara, you've pushed yourself too far. I know you want to make friends, but this is happening too fast.” 

“If I cancel, it'll upset Lee.” 

Temari let out a controlled breath. “I... appreciate that you're concerned for Lee, but a month ago he was just a client. What's changed?” 

Gaara shook his head. “He's...nice.” 

“Nice,” Temari repeated. “Nice isn't—Gaara, I just want to understand.” 

“So do I,” he snapped. He clenched his hands. “I'm sorry.” 

“It's fine. You're upset.” 

“That doesn't mean I should snap at you.” Guilt dug its way into him, settling in his chest. “I'm the reason Kankurou—”

“Don't. This is not your fault. Kankurou has his own issues to sort out, okay? You didn't make him punch the wall.” 

“But I made him mad.” 

“No,” Temari countered. “You made him worry. He wasn't mad at you, Gaara. He's mad at the situation, at our father, at his own Inability to deal with this, but not at you. Do you understand?” 

Gaara rolled his eyes. “I'm not an idiot.” 

“I didn't say you were. Don't twist this. You're damn near a genius, and we all know that. But you've been through a lot and it's fucked you up.” 

“Certified crazy,” Gaara said flatly. 

Temari laughed. “Don't I know it.” She reached out, her hand hovering close, a silent request. Gaara reached out, taking her hand in his and squeezing. The moments when he allowed anyone to enter his physical space, when he allowed someone to touch him were few and far between, and always made him feel like an open wound, but Temari's hand in his helped. He felt as though he were being pulled back into his body, as though he were going to be okay.

“I scare him,” Gaara said so softly he thought Temari might not have heard it. His eyes burned at the memory of Kankurou staring up at him, distant and wary. 

“Hey,” Temari said softly, leaning just a little bit closer. “Hey, don't. Stop. You're not scary, Gaara. It's not—you're not what scares him, okay?” 

“But—”

“No, look at me,” Temari said, leaning into his line of sight. He forced himself to meet her eyes, which were glassy and bloodshot. “Listen, everything— _everything_ we've done these last five years, we've done because we love you. You don't scare us. The only thing that scares us is the possibility that we'll lose you, okay? Kankurou was only scared that you were relapsing.” 

Gaara didn't trust himself to speak, but he nodded slowly, trying to accept Temari's words even as his own self-loathing told him she was wrong. 

Temari squeezed his hand. “Don't,” she chided softly. “I know what you're thinking and you're wrong.” 

“I—” He closed his eyes, a few tears sliding down his cheeks, hot and damning. “I don't know what I'm doing, Temari.” 

“I know,” she whispered. “Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing either, but we're doing our best, right? You'll be okay, Gaara. I know you will.” 

He didn't know how Temari could have such faith in him, but he knew he couldn't let her down. 

“I'll be okay,” he finally agreed, and a thought struck him. “That's why I need to go to Lee's tomorrow.” 

“Gaara—”

“Please. I'll go to Lee's tomorrow,” he repeated. “I need to go. It's—it's another step to being okay, right? And I'll make you a deal: If anything happens, if I can't take it, I'll take a break. I'll cancel all my extracurricular activities next week and I won't allow Naruto to drag me anywhere.” 

Temari contemplated this for a long moment. “If something happens, you call me. I'll come pick you up. I can even talk to Lee and his dad for you.” 

“I don't think Lee lives with his parents,” Gaara said. 

“Who does he live with?” 

“His sensei?” Gaara shrugged. “I never really asked him about it.” 

Temari sighed, smiling despite everything. “You're hopeless.” 

Gaara returned her smile with a small one of his own. “Yeah,” he agreed. “But at least I'll be okay.” 

***

He was exhausted. 

He had known he would be, but it still brought him up short as he got into his car. He felt like he'd been run over. Repeatedly. By a train. 

Kankurou had, indeed, fractured his hand, but otherwise he was all right. The worst of it was that his emotional outburst had resulted in, apart from the hospital visit, Temari sitting the two of them down for a family heart-to-heart, which had taken another two hours and a lot of crying, grunting, and awkward patting before any of them could go to bed. Temari had chosen to spend the night, claiming fatigue. 

Gaara knew better, though. 

“You sure you wanna do this?” Temari asked as she slid into the driver's seat. She'd insisted on driving him to Lee's, a dangerous look in her eye when he'd tried to argue. 

“I need to,” he said quietly, not meeting her eyes. He couldn't explain it any better than he had last night; all he knew was that if he could just do this then it would prove he was getting better. Maybe it was proof, maybe it was just a fluke. Gaara wouldn't know until he did it and kept doing it.

Temari sighed, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “If you say so.” 

She started the engine and buckled up, while Gaara turned on his music and set the GPS to Lee's apartment. 

It wasn't a long drive, but somehow he still managed to fall asleep on the way there. The car came to an abrupt stop and Gaara was pulled from a half-dream about math and turtles and skeletons in a closet. 

“All right,” Temari said, gripping the wheel tight. “You call me if anything happens, okay? Even if it's small. I'll come right over. I think there's a cafe down the street—”

“Temari,” Gaara said, voice clipped. “Go. Home. Sleep. If something happens, I'll call.” 

“But—”

“Please.” He met her worried gaze, trying to make her understand.

Finally, she relented, looking away and relaxing her grip on the steering wheel. “Fine.” 

He got out of the car, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Lee said they usually have dinner at seven, so I'll text you around eight, maybe a little later.” 

Temari nodded. “Okay.” 

“I'll be fine,” he promised. 

He couldn't know that, and Gaara wasn't usually the type to say sentimental things, but if it made Temari feel better, he would tell her whatever she wanted to hear. 

“I'll see you tonight. Pick you up at nine?” 

“That sounds good.” 

“Good bye,” she said, but Gaara could hear what she really meant. _Good luck._

***

The moment Lee saw Gaara he insisted on canceling their tutoring session. 

“But—what else are we going to do?” Gaara had asked when it was clear that Lee would not be moved. 

Lee frowned. “What do you mean?” 

Gaara floundered. “I mean, dinner isn't until seven. What are we going to do for the next five hours?” 

Lee laughed. “We can just hang out! There is no sense in tutoring when you are clearly tired. You should have called me. I would have understood.” 

Hang out. They were going to “just hang out”. That was as novel a concept to Gaara as oxygen was to alien life, which he was almost sure now that Lee was, in fact, an alien because no one had ever wanted to “just hang out” with Gaara. He had never in his life “just hung out” with anyone before, not even Naruto. There was usually always a reason to see someone, like the movies or Friday at the Valley. 

“I did not want you to fall behind in your studies,” he said weakly in response to Lee's concerned look. 

Lee smiled that blindingly bright smile of his, the smile that baffled Gaara and made him want unnameable things he didn't understand like helping Lee with math even though it meant more work for Gaara. “You are very kind, but I really do not mind. Kurenai-sensei has been most impressed with my improvement in class. I told her all about what you have been showing me and we even spoke about having me tested for dyscalculia. But ever since you started tutoring me, I have been doing so much better! So I am sure I can get through this week.” 

Gaara felt warm knowing that Lee had improved so much thanks to his help. 

“We can hang out in my room,” Lee went on, walking over to Ningame's tank and picking him up. “Gai-sensei and Kakashi-sensei will be back around five.” 

“You live with two of your teachers?” 

Lee blushed. “Oh, well... Yes. Gai-sensei is my kung fu instructor and my track coach. I have known him since I was five, and when my parents died he adopted me. Kakashi-sensei and Gai-sensei are—” Lee hesitated, biting his lip. 

“Are?” Gaara prompted. 

“They are married,” Lee finished. He looked simultaneously scared and combative, as though daring Gaara to say something and terrified that Gaara would all at once. 

“Oh. And Kakashi is also one of your teachers?” 

All the hot air and tension in Lee fled, replaced by shining relief. “Oh, no. I am not smart enough for Kakashi-sensei's classes.” 

“Don't say that,” Gaara demanded. “You learn differently, that doesn't make you unintelligent.” 

Lee's eyes immediately welled with tears and Gaara wanted to take back the words if only to avoid the emotions that Lee was so quick to jump to. “Thank you, Gaara-san,” he said thickly. And, because apparently Lee liked to remind him of this often, he added, “You are too kind!” 

“I'm not,” Gaara countered, confused and frustrated by how Lee's words made him feel: pleased and unworthy, like he were lying to Lee somehow. “It's just a statement of fact. You're already doing much better in math. You can't help that you have a learning disability.” 

Lee wiped his eyes, nodding so emphatically his hair flew about his head. “You are right!” He held up a determined fist. “I shall not speak so poorly of myself anymore! I am not stupid! I am just different!” 

Gaara felt a smile tug at his mouth. “So, Kakashi does teach at your school, then?” 

“Yup,” Lee said, grinning. He turned away, heading down the narrow hallway of his apartment. He continued, glancing back at Gaara as he spoke, “He teaches Advanced Literature. Gai-sensei is the Physical Education teacher, and other than track, he coaches the soccer team and the swim team.” 

“That's a lot of teams. How does he have time to teach martial arts?” 

Lee seemed to vibrate with excitement at the prospect of talking about Gai, and he launched into an explanation with such gusto Gaara was momentarily taken aback. 

“Gai-sensei is amazing!” He stopped in the middle of the hall, turning around fully to look at Gaara. “He has taught me everything he knows! He is incredibly organized and has the vitality of eternal youth! Plus, Kakashi-sensei sometimes helps him with everything. They have known each other since they were young, and are a great team! They were rivals when they were in school, but even through all that they became best friends and eventually fell in love!” 

Gaara nodded along, feeling winded on Lee's behalf and more than a little concerned for Ningame who he hoped wasn't too shaken up by Lee's enthusiasm. “I see. It sounds like you have a very interesting family life.” 

“Oh, it is wonderful! I have been very lucky to have Gai-sensei looking after me all these years. I do not know what would have happened to me without him. Tenten always says her grandmother would have taken me in, but living with Gai-sensei has been the best. I could not ask for a better father!” 

Something ugly and hot stirred in Gaara, and he quickly looked away. “That's good.” 

“What about you? Your brother seems very nice—I always wanted an older brother.” 

“My siblings are... good. I like them.” He thought about last night and the guilt reared up again. Kankurou's fractured hand, the look on his face; Temari worried and sleep-rumpled, rushing to check on him. He loved his siblings, but there were no words to describe the depth of that feeling. Gaara barely knew how to cope with the intensity of his love and gratitude for all they'd done for him, let alone how to put words to it. 

“That is wonderful! I am sure they care a great deal about you, too!” He didn't ask about Gaara's parents, and for that Gaara was relieved. Lee pushed open the door to his bedroom, holding it open for Gaara to enter. The room was immaculate, which given the rest of the apartment shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did.

The walls were decorated with posters of all kinds, weapons, and countless martial arts belts. There was a poster with a group of men cast in shadow with the word QUEEN emblazoned at the top in silver on one wall, another poster of a group of cartoon turtles with masks and weapons above Lee's bed, and countless posters of a man in various fighting poses who looked remarkably like Lee which surrounded his many weapons and belts, like some sort of shrine. 

“What's that?” He pointed to the only glass case mounted on the wall, which housed a long spear.

“That is a qiang! It is a type of spear used in kung fu,” Lee said, his face lighting up. He set Ningame down on the floor, and the little tortoise began a slow trek away from Lee. 

“Do you know how to use it?” Gaara asked, curious. 

“Absolutely! I have studied as many weapons as I can, in addition to the different forms of martial arts! It is my passion!” 

“I wouldn't have guessed,” Gaara said, smiling as he looked over the shrine. 

“Oh! I know! We could watch a movie!” Lee said suddenly, somehow more excited than before. “Do you know who Bruce Lee is?” 

Gaara had a funny feeling, as he shook his head, that he was about to spend the rest of his afternoon finding out. 

***

Meeting Maito Gai went nothing like how Gaara had imagined it would be. 

He should have realised, given the way Lee was, that Gai would be as kind and welcoming as Lee himself, but he also should have realised that Gai would be just as loud and energetic as Lee. After hours of watching Kung Fu movies starring Lee's doppelganger and listening to Lee wax poetical on Bruce Lee's skills and philosophies, Gaara had been ready for a break from the excitement. 

And then there had been a strong-handed knock on Lee's door and suddenly the room had been filled with Maito Gai, standing in the doorway, tall and broad and so loud. 

“Lee!” he shouted to Gaara's chagrin. His anxiety was thumping through his veins and he sat tense and quiet on the floor, staring wide-eyed as Lee launched himself from the bed towards his adoptive father. 

“Gai-sensei!” 

Behind Gai, another man—Gaara assumed Kakashi—stood, with a scarf covering half of his face and an eye-patch over one eye. He seemed to be smiling, judging by the way his visible eye crinkled. 

“And this must be the infamous Gaara!” Gai exclaimed, pulling away from Lee and gracing Gaara with a smile almost as blinding as Lee's. 

Lee smiled at Gaara beside Gai, his cheeks going slightly pink. “Forgive me,” Lee said, walking back over to him. “Gai-sensei, this is my friend, Gaara-san!” 

Gai, to Gaara's surprise and relief, did not try to shake his hand or hug him. Instead, he struck a pose, giving Gaara a thumbs up. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Gaara! I have heard such wonderful things about you from Lee! You are a truly remarkable person, helping him to learn math and overcome his learning disability! Such selflessness—”

Gaara could not take the praise. “Lee's paying me for my services,” he corrected Gai, quickly, shifting uncomfortably and rising to his feet. “I'm glad to help him though.” 

This did not seem to deter Gai, because he continued as though Gaara had not said anything. “You are an exceptional young man! I am sure you charge a reasonable price for tutoring my beloved Lee! And you have taken extra time out of your day! Lee told us all about how you stayed late to help him! And how you have done research on his disability!” Tears welled in Gai's eyes. Gaara wanted to run. “You are always welcome here, Gaara!” 

Feeling more than a little lost, Gaara could only nod. 

Beside him, Lee was a veritable ball of energy as Gai went on about all of Gaara's wonderful qualities. Gaara really hoped Lee would not weigh in because he really could not take that. A small yap came from behind Gai just in time.

“Ah, Pakkun is hungry,” Kakashi said mildly, behind the scarf around his mouth. “Gaara-kun, would you mind helping me?” 

Gaara hastily slipped past Gai and followed Kakashi into the kitchen, intent on any escape from the mail storm of excitement he'd found himself in. Even from the kitchen, he could hear Lee and Gai talking excitedly in Lee's room, as loud and clear as though they were standing next to him.

“Sorry about him,” Kakashi said, setting a mesh bag he'd had slung over his shoulder down. There was a little yip and then a pug jumped out of the bag. Gaara did not hate dogs, per say, but he was not especially fond of their tendency to jump all over you and bark over everything, which made it all the more awkward when Pakkun came rushing excitedly towards him. Gaara took a careful step back, but this did nothing to deter the dog's determination to lick and rub against Gaara's legs. 

“Pakkun” Kakashi called in a voice that made Gaara cringe. The dog immediately went running, making horrible wheezing sounds as it went. 

“So,” Kakashi said, grabbing a bowl and a can of dog food.

Gaara hummed, waiting for Kakashi to say something to fill the silence.

“You're not quite what I expected,” Kakashi finally said, giving him a look that, no matter how mild his expression, made Gaara feel immediately on edge. 

He tensed, prepared for the worst. 

“I think you're a good influence on Lee,” he added, apparently oblivious to Gaara's discomfort. “He's a good kid, but he's prone to getting down on himself when he fails at anything—even something he isn't passionate about.” Kakashi glanced over his shoulder at Gaara, his eyes crinkling in a smile hidden behind his scarf. “He likes you a lot, you know?” 

Gaara wasn't sure how to respond. “Lee studies hard,” he said vaguely, side stepping the question. “He just needs the right tutelage.” 

Kakashi chuckled. “I see.” 

His tone implied something, but Gaara was at a loss for what it could be. The silence in the kitchen was absolute, only interrupted by the excited shouting from Lee's bedroom. Gaara shifted, watching Pakkun who was eagerly awaiting his food, shaking with the anticipation of it. Kakashi didn't speak, leaning against the counter, completely unfazed by Gaara's presence in his kitchen. A moment later, there was silence from down the hall and then Lee's bedroom door closed. 

“Ah, it sounds like they're finished,” Kakashi said, setting the food down. Pakkun immediately attacked the bowl, chomping so fast Gaara was certain he would choke. 

“Gai and Lee usually cook dinner,” he explained, ushering Gaara from the kitchen. “I usually grade papers while they're cooking. Lee tells us you're quite the busy bee. I'm sure you could do homework until dinner's ready, although I warn you, it won't get any quieter in here.”

“You mean they're always this loud?” Gaara asked, the words tumbling from him before he could stop them. 

Kakashi laughed. “Always,” he said with a secret smile, looking up as Gai entered the living room, Lee just behind him.

“Gai-sensei and I are going to make tanuki soba, Gaara-san,” Lee exclaimed. “I hope that is okay with you.” 

“It is,” Gaara said, pleased when Lee's smile brightened. 

“Wonderful!” Gai shouted. “Then let's begin! Gaara, would you like to join us?” 

Gaara quickly shook his head. “I have homework I should work on,” he said. 

“Of course! Lee told us all about your busy schedule. Well, then we will not keep you from the honorable pursuit of knowledge! Come, Lee!” 

“Hai, Gai-sensei!” 

Lee shared one more smile with Gaara before disappearing into the kitchen after Gai. 

***

By the time dinner was over, Gaara was exhausted. 

Spending time with Lee had been enjoyable, but the combination of Lee's and Gai's energy, plus Kakashi's ability to make enigmatic off-hand comments about this or that left Gaara rung out. He texted Temari fifteen minutes to nine, just to make sure she was on her way. 

“Will you be joining us for dinner again, Gaara?” Gai asked. Now full, Gai and Lee were both much calmer, but there was still far too much volume in the question for Gaara's liking. 

He glanced at Lee, but Lee's expression was more baffling than helpful. He was smiling, but it was not the blinding smile Gaara was used to. He didn't look as confident, and though his expression was no less open it was impossibly confusing to parse through the layers of emotion flashing in Lee's eyes. 

Lee was an enigma wrapped in a deceptively easy to read book jacket. On the surface, one would think he was an open book, but Gaara felt that at every turn he was tripping over the things Lee said and the emotions he expressed. 

He nodded, unable to look away from Lee, and the answering smile he got told him that this was what Lee had wanted to hear. Perhaps Lee was worried Gaara wouldn't want to stay again? 

“I would like that very much,” Lee said, voice warm with happiness. 

Gaara felt a small smile tug at his mouth. 

“Wonderful!” Gai enthused, but he was watching Lee, not Gaara. “Perhaps next time we can play a board game, too!” 

“That sounds fun, doesn't it, Gaara-kun?” Kakashi asked, grinning behind a face mask he'd donned after eating.

“Yes,” Gaara agreed, because he didn't know what else to say. His phone went off, and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks. “My sister is here to pick me up.” 

“Oh! I will walk you out,” Lee said quickly, scrambling from his seat. 

“After that, Lee, you should get ready for bed! Tomorrow will be a rigorous day of training!” 

“Hai, Gai-sensei!” Lee saluted Gai, before following Gaara from the kitchen. 

Gaara felt the tightness in his chest ease as he put some distance between himself and Lee's adopted family. 

“I am very glad you came over,” Lee said quietly, handing Gaara his things. 

“It was nice,” Gaara said, the words a little stiff but no less true. “Thank you for inviting me to stay for dinner.” 

Lee smiled, but didn't meet Gaara's eyes as he opened the door. They walked down to the street in silence, and though Gaara was not uncomfortable, there was something about it that prodded at him. Lee seemed to be deep in thought, his hands shoved into his pockets and an intense look on his face as he watched his feet. Gaara contemplated him from the corner of his eye, trying and failing, yet again, to understand what Lee's expressive face communicated to the world. Their shoulders brushed as they reached the staircase together, and Lee paused, allowing Gaara to walk ahead of him. 

“Do you—do you really want to come back for dinner?” Lee finally asked as they reached the bottom of the staircase. 

“Of course,” Gaara said turning to him. Lee was biting his lip, his cheeks pink and his gaze averted. 

“I mean, you do not have to, you know? If you would rather not. I know that Gai-sensei and I are...” He trailed off, glancing at Gaara. 

“You are very genuine people,” Gaara said. “I enjoyed dinner.” 

“Oh.” 

A car door closed behind them, and Gaara turned to see Temari coming around the driver's side. 

“That's my sister.” 

“She is very beautiful,” Lee said, staring. “You look very much alike.” 

Gaara shrugged. “I guess,” he said, walking to meet her. 

“How was dinner?” Temari asked, tension all over her face. She glanced back as Lee drew closer, looking him up and down, an eyebrow rising slowly as she took him in. 

“Dinner was good. I'll be staying again next week.” 

Temari's gaze snapped to his. “What?” 

Gaara gave her a significant look. He didn't need her arguing about this in front of Lee. 

“That's—nice,” she said stiffly. “And you must be Lee? I've heard so much about you.” 

Lee beamed. “I hope only good things!” he said, sticking his hand out to hers. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Temari-san. I have heard a little about you as well, mostly from Shikamaru-kun. Gaara-san does not talk about himself that much.” 

Temari seemed caught between amusement and bewilderment. “Shikamaru told me you defended my honor the other night,” she said, opting for amusement. 

Lee flushed, grinning sheepishly. “That was—I would defend anyone who was being spoken of so poorly! Kiba-kun is not so bad, but he can be very crass.” Lee shook his head as though he were terribly disappointed in his friend.

“Well, boys will be boys,” Temari said slyly, eyes narrowing in consideration. Lee bristled. 

“That is absolutely no excuse to disrespect women!” he blurted, and Temari laughed. 

“I like you,” she said, shaking her head. “Come on, Gaara. Let's go.” 

Temari turned, heading to the driver's side of the car, while Gaara hesitated by the passenger door. Beside him, Lee's expression had taken on that same thoughtful quality it had held moments before. 

“I really did have a good time,” he said quietly, looking back at Lee. 

Lee's answering smile was bashful, but he met Gaara's gaze this time. “I am glad to hear it. I look forward to next Sunday.” 

“Me too,” Gaara said, and was surprised by how much he meant it. He'd overcome another hurdle and, for the time being, conquered his anxiety enough to enjoy time with a new friend. 

“Well, then, I—I will see you next Sunday!” Lee moved forward, then abruptly stopped and shoved his hands back in his pockets. “Thank you again for coming tonight.” 

Gaara nodded. “Good night, Lee. Text me if you have any trouble with your math this week.” 

Once in the car, Gaara found himself pinned by Temari's intent gaze. He froze, half-way to buckling his seat belt, trapped by her intent stare. “Don't start. I did fine tonight. I'll be fine next Sunday, too.” 

Temari didn't say anything, glancing back at Lee who was still standing next to the car, waiting for them to leave. 

“Temari,” Gaara said flatly. She started the car, looking away and shaking her head. 

“I'm glad you're making new friends,” she finally said as they pulled away from Lee's apartment. 

Gaara smiled to himself, glancing in the side-view mirror to watch Lee as they drove off. 

“Me too,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, the title for this chapter is from a Queen song, this time from [Let Me in Your Heart Again](https://ru-clip.com/video/NWzeNnq1-rA/queen-let-me-in-your-heart-again-album-version.html). 
> 
> Also, [check out this art that my friend drew based on the first scene in chapter one!](https://brianadoesotherjunk.tumblr.com/post/169546250206/what-do-you-mean-this-isnt-exactly-what-happened)
> 
> And finally, check out PureGaaLee's next [GaaLee Week event!](http://puregaalee.tumblr.com/post/170014987240/puregaalee-gaalee-week-2018-7th-march-14th)


	5. One Golden Glance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting used to having friends is one thing. Getting used to strange, new feelings of restlessness; of something left unsaid and undone, however, is not easy. Especially when you have anxiety. Gaara does his best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no update! I cannot believe I haven't updated this since January. I was fully intending to have this fic all done by this summer, but unfortunately life got in the way. I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things with writing now that I'm in my new apartment. Admittedly, I'm not fully happy with this chapter, but it's been such a long time since my last update so I really just wanted to get this done. Plus, I always struggle with slice of life. I hope everyone enjoys and that the wait was worth it.

Summer crept up on Gaara, slowly and then all at once, as it so often did. 

School had effectively distracted him from the changing of seasons and the passage of time, but this year his distractions were not only academic in nature: Naruto continued to pester him every week, and though Gaara did not always accept his invitations to socialize, he was starting to do so more and more frequently—a movie in the middle of the week with Naruto, Sakura, Ino, and Sai wasn't so difficult to manage, especially when the theater was empty on a Tuesday night; a quick bite to eat after school in lieu of actually tutoring Naruto, who Gaara now suspected hadn't ever wanted any sort of tutoring, didn't strike in him the same anxiety as it once had; on one occasion, he'd even allowed Naruto to drag him back to the Valley on a Saturday afternoon, much to the surprise of his siblings and himself. 

And then, of course, there was tutoring and dinner at Lee's.

Sunday had quickly become Gaara's favourite day of the week without him quite realizing it. The first half of the week he didn't think much about it—after all, he'd just spent a full day with Lee, so he couldn't possibly be looking forward to the next Sunday so soon! But by Wednesday a quiet nostalgia always swept over him. He would sit in class, attentive as ever, and then something would take hold, something would remind him of Lee and he would find himself missing a full five minutes of notes. By Saturday he would be practically anxious with excitement, waiting for the following day. 

And then Sunday would come—finally!—and Gaara would drive to Lee's, at ease and happy. Within the last month of spring, as May gave way to the oppressive June heat, Gaara found himself arriving at Lee's early more often than not. Lee was always waiting, excited and eager, not a single complaint that Gaara's early arrival was inconvenient for him. 

They would pass the early afternoon by watching movies or listening to music and _talking_ —it was so strange, so novel! Gaara still couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that he could just sit and talk with someone, but Lee made it easy. He didn't push Gaara to talk about himself, and he always led the conversation with infectious enthusiasm no matter what he was talking about. He'd tell Gaara stories about all the belts he'd earned in the many forms of martial arts he knew (and there were quite a lot); he told Gaara about the time he'd broken his leg while training at three in the morning; he'd talk about Ningame or Pakkun, and ask about Shukaku. Lee held up an endless stream of chatter, always allowing Gaara to partake, but never forcing it when Gaara wanted only to sit and listen. 

Gaara could listen to Lee talk for hours, and the Sundays when he got to do just that were always wonderfully soothing. 

Thus, May passed him by in a whirlwind of the new and exciting; June faded into memories of Sundays with Lee and a sometimes-Tuesday night with Naruto and company in between all the homework and extracurricular activities that usually took up all of his time. Somehow, in just a couple short months, Gaara had found himself changed, found himself friends, found himself happier than he could ever remember being. 

A part of him worried that it wouldn't last; that something would trigger another episode; that Lee or Naruto—or both—might grow tired of his company; that the others secretly thought him weird and creepy; that he would scare Lee off because he wasn't really okay and the facade would eventually break. Surely— _surely_ —this couldn't last. 

And then July came and Gaara still had friends. 

***

“Gaara-san!” Lee's voice echoed down the street as Gaara, Naruto, and the others exited the theatre. Gaara whipped his head around, staring as Lee sprinted towards them with a broad grin on his face. He came to a skidding halt in front of them, still beaming for all he was worth and exuding an energy that was uniquely his—it warmed Gaara immediately, made him feel inexplicably happy. “Hi,” Lee said, his voice dropping a notch or five in volume as he greeted Gaara. 

“I didn't know you were coming,” Gaara said, a bit foolishly. “Didn't you have Kung Fu tonight?” 

“I did! But Sakura-san said everyone was going for milkshakes afterwards and invited me to come along!”

A small smile tugged at Gaara's mouth, like a cold that couldn't be avoided despite taking medicine and overdoing it with vitamin C. Behind him, Naruto muttered, “Gaara isn't coming with us to the Valley. He has _homework_.” 

Lee's face fell. “Oh, I—well, that is understandable! You have a lot of responsibilities to contend with, after all!” 

Gaara glared back at Naruto. “I think I can make time for a milkshake,” he said flatly, glancing back at Lee in time to see his face light up. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, despite the million-watt smile on his face that unequivocally said he wanted nothing else but this. 

Gaara shrugged. “I don't mind.” 

Behind him, Naruto spluttered, but a quick elbow to the ribs from Sakura stopped whatever tirade was forthcoming. Gaara silently thanked her with a quick look and a small smile. 

“That is wonderful!” Lee gave him a glittering grin and a thumbs up. 

“Oi! I'm the one driving. Isn't anyone gonna ask me?” Naruto groused. 

Gaara gave him a long hard look, while Lee flushed and spluttered an apology. “I did not mean to presume, Naruto-kun!” 

“Don't worry about it, Lee-san,” Sakura intervened. “Naruto's just cranky because Sasuke blocked him on messenger.” 

“Hey!” Naruto snapped. “That's private! Besides, there isn't any room in my car. I can't fit six people in there.” 

Ino snorted. “Oh, please. We've fit six people in there plenty of times. I can sit on Sakura's lap.” 

“If I get pulled over—”

No one listened to Naruto as he continued to complain on the short walk back to the car. Gaara rather wished he'd brought his own car; he could drive Lee there and take him home, instead of all six of them packing into Naruto's car like sardines. 

Once they reached the car, another issue presented itself: Gaara didn't want to sit in the back, being crowded by everyone, but he also wanted to sit with Lee.

He stopped next to Lee, who seemed inexplicably happy for no reason that Gaara could discern. Then again, that was Lee all over: he almost always radiated a kind of happiness that felt like the sun. Gaara hadn't been able to figure out how Lee managed it, and whenever he did get to spend time with Lee, he often forgot to solve that mystery, too caught up in basking in the warmth that so confounded him. 

“Are we just gonna stand here or are we gonna get into the car?” Naruto whined as he opened his door and ducked into the driver's seat. Gaara and Lee were effectively blocking the side of the car Sai was attempting to get into, while Sakura and Ino climbed into the backseat on the driver's side. 

“Gaara-san, is everything all right?” Lee asked, concern in his eyes. 

“Fine. I just—” He didn't exactly know how to tell Lee that he both wanted and didn't want to sit in the back with him. He doubted his anxiety could stand even a short car ride packed so tightly into the backseat, but he wanted to be able to. He needed to be able to, and it was suddenly incredibly frustrating that he didn't think he could handle it, that his anxiety was getting in the way of something as simple as a night out with friends. 

Lee waited patiently for the rest of Gaara's sentence, but when it didn't come he bit his lip. “It is because you should not be going, right? You must have quite a lot of school work to be doing. I should not have asked you—”

“I want to go,” he said. “I just... the backseat. It'll be cramped.” 

Understanding dawned on Lee's face and his smiled returned. “Oh! Well, you should sit up front then!” 

Gaara felt his stomach knot, the mounting frustration and anxiety now mingled with a sense of loss that he could not quite explain. It made sense for him to sit up front; he didn't _need_ to sit next to Lee. Maybe Lee didn't even want to sit next to him... 

“Come on!” Naruto shouted from inside the car, startling Gaara. He opened the passenger door and plopped dejectedly into the seat. Behind him, Lee was settling into the middle seat, next to Sakura and an incredibly pleased Ino who was whispering in Sakura's ear. Gaara did his best not to glance back at Lee, but the urge to turn around and look at him was almost impossible to ignore. 

The door slammed shut as Sai settled in, and Naruto started the engine with an irritated, “Finally.” 

In the backseat, Lee had started talking excitedly with Sakura and Ino. Gaara's attention was quickly drawn to their conversation and he listened intently to Lee's chetter, the sound just loud enough over the engine. Naruto turned on the music, still looking more irritated than Gaara thought he had any right to be. 

“—and Gai-sensei was saying that I am incredibly close to beating my best time!” 

“Lee, you _always_ beat your best time. You're literally in competition with yourself,” Ino said. “Honestly, you're probably the fastest man in the world.” 

Gaara could practically hear the blush in Lee's laughter. “Oh, I am sure that is not true! But maybe one day!” 

“Well, you'll definitely run circles around the Kiri team at the track meet.” 

“I will certainly do my best! But I hear they have an incredibly strong team this year, so I do not want to slack off!” 

“Do you even know the meaning of the word?” Ino said with a laugh.

Gaara let the rest of the conversation turn to incomprehensible babble as they drove. The lights from the streets flickered past in a blur as Naruto sped up—he had to be going faster than the speed limit by now—and Gaara lost himself to the rumble of the engine and the lull of the music. Lee's voice was a pleasant hum beneath it all, interrupted sometimes by the others but always the most prominent. 

He jerked when the car came to a stop, some twenty minutes later. The Valley was quiet on a Tuesday night, but by no means completely dead. 

“Here,” Naruto said shortly, shutting off the engine and opening his door. The sudden silence was jarring, and it took Gaara a moment to adjust while everyone began piling out of the car. He opened his door, lagging behind the rest, only to find that Lee was waiting for him with a smile on his face. 

“I am really glad you decided to come tonight,” Lee said as they meandered towards the diner, lagging behind the rest of their group. 

Gaara shrugged, pleased despite himself. “I don't have a lot of homework.” 

Typically, Gaara was not one for lying, but he knew Lee would feel responsible if Gaara ended up behind in his classes. He didn't particularly care about classwork right now though. He cared about unexpectedly getting to spend time with Lee. Once a week, he was starting to realise, was simply not enough. He wondered if it was enough for Lee. 

“That does not surprise me! You are always so well organized. I would not expect anything less from you!” 

“Oi! Hurry up, slowpokes!” Naruto called, holding the diner's door open. The others had already disappeared inside, leaving Naruto to wrangle Lee and Gaara. 

“Sorry, Naruto-kun!” Lee said, picking up the pace. 

“Geeze, Gejimayu, how're you gonna be the fastest man alive if you walk so damn slow?” Naruto teased, punching Lee in the arm as he walked past. Lee laughed along, grinning at Naruto before disappearing into the diner. 

“Come on, Gaara,” Naruto said, flinging his arm around Gaara's shoulders. Gaara immediately tensed, shrinking in on himself at the unwelcome contact. 

“Must you,” he groused. 

“Aw, don't be like that, man.” 

“You know I don't like to be touched,” Gaara ground out as Naruto dragged him down, slowing their progress to the booth Sakura had claimed for them. 

Lee glanced back at them, the smile on his face slipping a bit before he turned away. He quickly caught up to the others, sliding into the seat next to Sakura and leaning in to whisper something to her. She glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of Gaara and Naruto before turning back to Lee. 

“But I thought I was the exception,” Naruto whined. “Remember? You said, I was the exception, not the rule.” 

Gaara rolled his eyes, peeling himself from Naruto with effort. “Exceptionally stupid,” he muttered. 

“Hey!” Naruto trailed after Gaara, whining his name as they finally arrived at their booth. Naruto shot forward without warning, taking the seat next to Lee and flopping against him. “Lee, you don't think I'm stupid, do you?” 

Lee, who was looking uncharacteristically subdued with his head on Sakura's shoulder, righted himself as Naruto's weight settled against him. “Why would I think that?” 

“Gaara said I was stupid,” Naruto said, pointing an accusatory finger at him. 

Sakura shoved Naruto from around Lee, pushing him right out of the booth. “Don't be such a baby. He's just teasing you. Besides, it _is_ stupid hanging all over him when you know he doesn't like it.” 

Naruto harrumphed from where he'd fallen on the floor. “Well, I thought I was special. I mean, we have been friends since we were kids.” 

“Well, well, if it isn't my favourite trouble-maker,” a familiar voice said behind Gaara. “You kids here for some late night snacks?” 

Gaara quickly took Naruto's distraction as an opportunity to take a seat next to Lee. 

“Just grabbing milkshakes,” Ino said cheerfully. “And trying to teach that one manners.” 

The server laughed. “A valuable service,” she joked as Naruto slumped into the seat next to Sai. “What'll it be? The usual?” 

“I think so! Oh, wait—Gaara, you don't have a usual yet, do you?” Sakura asked. 

“I had the lychee slush last time.” 

“That gonna be your usual then?”

Gaara nodded. 

“All right, then. I'll be back in a jiffy.” 

The moment she was gone, Naruto gave a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “She's the only one who truly appreciates me.” 

Sakura snorted. “We appreciate you, Naruto,” she said, a glint in her eye. “Just in moderation.” 

“Small doses of Naruto are doctor recommended,” Ino agreed. 

“Small like his dick,” Sai added, to which Naruto promptly squawked and made to punch him. 

“Quit it! I don't want to get kicked out again,” Sakura warned. “You know he's just doing that to piss you off, Naruto.” 

“Yeah, well it works!” he snapped, giving Sai a weak punch to the arm despite Sakura's warning. 

“Obviously,” Ino muttered. “Maybe if you didn't rise to the bait, he wouldn't do it so much.” 

Naruto squinted at her, as though weighing this sound piece of advice. He glanced at Sai, then back at Ino before shaking his head. “Nah, he'd still do it. Wouldn't you?” 

Sai beamed. “I'd never miss an opportunity to talk about your dick.” 

Beside Gaara, Lee was as red as a tomato, but the rest of the table burst into laughter, Naruto the loudest of them all. 

“I can always count on you, Sai,” he said in between labored breaths. 

“Well, as long as you don't actually kill each other or get us kicked out again,” Sakura conceded. 

“Me?” Naruto said, batting his eyelashes innocently. “Get us kicked out? Aw, shucks, I'll be a perfect angel, Sakura-chan.” 

“Oh, brother.” She shook her head, laughing to herself. 

They settled into less raunchy conversation, discussing their classes at Konoha and the in-group gossip that Gaara was largely ignorant of. Lee had finally settled, losing the red stain to his cheeks now that the conversation had switched to a more family friendly topic. Gaara watched him from the corner of his eye every now and then, but Lee barely looked at him. 

It made him feel hollow, like someone had scooped out his insides. He curled in on himself unconsciously, pulling away from Lee as the conversation wore on. His gaze fell to his lap as his thoughts turned more and more inward. Was Lee upset with him? Hadn't Lee been excited to see him tonight? Why wasn't Lee looking at him? 

Gaara's gaze drifted to Lee, unbidden. Beneath their table, Lee and Sakura's hands were intertwined. It was strange, and the hollow feeling worsened, a deep sense of loss that he could not explain. He stared at their joined hands, his awareness of the conversation secondary now to the sight before him. 

“And here are your drinks!” their server announced, startling Gaara from his deadened contemplation of Lee's and Sakura's joined hands. 

He didn't particularly want his slush anymore. It looked unappetizing and his stomach churned at the sight of it. Going home sounded much preferred to sitting here, ignored by Lee, forcing down a drink he no longer wanted. He should have known better than to stay out later than planned, he could only take so much socializing usually. He couldn't understand what had possessed him to prolong his night; why Lee's presence had been so worth the inevitable challenges he would face.

“That looks very tasty!” Lee said, leaning close, but not quite in Gaara's personal space. 

“It's good,” he said flatly. 

Lee frowned, scooting closer. Gaara watched as he released Sakura's hand, his gaze following the movement of Lee's as it rose to the table. “Are you all right?” Lee whispered. Gaara was reminded of their first failed tutoring session, sitting outside the library where he'd discovered that Lee, despite evidence to the contrary, did in fact know how to whisper. 

Gaara looked up to find Lee closer than he'd expected, staring at him earnestly, concern in his eyes. “Fine,” he managed. “Just.” He didn't know what to say. The night had turned into a roller coaster of emotions, one minute he was happy—almost giddy—the next he was anxious, the next he felt hollow, and the feelings just kept coming. There were too many people, too many new things to parse through. And Lee had barely talked to him since they'd sat down. 

“Do you want me to call Gai-sensei?” Lee asked quietly. “He could pick us up.” 

“No, I'm fine,” Gaara lied. “Just anxiety.” 

Lee didn't seem to like that answer though. He turned fully towards Gaara, gazing at him curiously. “You should not push yourself, Gaara-san.” 

The unwelcome and heart-aching thought that Lee might not want him there crossed his mind, a painful and horrible realization pushed into his head like a screw being wedged someplace it didn't belong. He swallowed, looking down at his hands, unable to meet Lee's caring gaze. “If you think that's best...” 

Lee shifted, his shoulder brushing against Gaara's as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “I will go call Gai-sensei. Do you want to wait here?” 

Gaara nodded mutely, getting up so that Lee could slide out of the booth and make his way outside to place the call that Gaara desperately didn't want him to make. But if Lee didn't want him there, there was no point being there. 

The others stared at him as he took his seat again. Naruto was squinting at him in confusion as he sucked noisily on his straw. 

“Everything okay?” Sakura asked kindly. Her voice was soft and warm, filled with concern, but it did not ease the way his skin crawled as they stared at him. 

“It's fine. I just need to go home.” 

“What? Why? You haven't even touched your drink!” Naruto said. 

“Leave him alone,” Ino snapped. “Is Lee's dad giving you a ride?” 

Gaara frowned. “You mean Gai-sensei?” 

“Yeah, Lee still calls him that, but he's his dad in all ways except biological.”

“Why doesn't Lee—” Gaara stopped himself from asking the question. He didn't want to pry. Lee had never explained fully how Gai had come to adopt him, he'd only ever given him the briefest of explanations. Gaara had never asked—hadn't wanted to ask at one point—but the longer he knew Lee, the more he wanted to know about him. 

“Lee-san remembers his parents,” Sakura explained with a shrug. “He just feels weird calling Gai-sensei anything else, because that'd be like saying he's replacing his father who died.” 

“Oh.” Gaara glanced to the front of the diner, hoping to see Lee returning. It was a sobering thought, knowing that some part of Lee still missed the parents he'd barely known. It was astounding Lee could be so happy all the time while living with such loss. 

“Lee doesn't talk about it,” Ino added. “It's just—not something he does. He talks about it with Tenten and Neji sometimes, and you, right, babe?” 

“We've talked about it,” Sakura confirmed. “He's closest with Neji and Tenten, but he and I are pretty close, and I've always told him I'd be there for him if he needed it.” 

Naruto snorted. “Yeah, after rejecting him and breaking his heart.” 

“Oh shut it,” Sakura told him. 

“Rejected him?” 

“Lee used to have a crush on Sakura,” Ino said simply. “Back when they first met in middle school.” 

The hollow feeling came back, stark and cold. “I didn't know that.” 

Sakura shrugged. “Not really current news. Lee-san and I are good friends—”

“Plus, Gejimayu's always getting crushes on people,” Naruto said pointedly. “He just likes pretty faces, dattebayo.” 

“He's not like that anymore,” Sakura defended. 

“You're just saying that cause you still feel bad about it,” Naruto countered. “I'm just sayin', he's had a lot of crushes.” 

“Whatever.” Sakura glared at Naruto from across the table, but Naruto didn't seem to care. “Anyway, Lee-san and I did get close a little while after I rejected him. He was so sad, but he was still so nice. I didn't want him to think we couldn't be friends.” 

“That's good,” Gaara said without any conviction. 

“Oh, he's coming back,” Ino whispered, waving her hands animatedly. 

“And I have this essay due,” Sakura said, completely unprompted. “Oh, Lee-san, there you are!” 

Lee smiled, taking a seat next to Gaara. “Gai-sensei will be here soon. Do you want to grab some food on the way?” 

“Wait, so you're really gonna leave?” Naruto asked.

“Yes.” Gaara didn't want to go over it again. His anxiety was still prickling at his skin, his thoughts still unhappily wandering to any and every awful scenario they could, and now he was simply too tired to be around so many people. Going home, no matter how much he didn't want to, was the best option. 

“We can take your drink with us,” Lee said, leaning out of the booth to search for their server.

Gaara's stomach knotted. “Aren't you staying?” 

Lee turned back to Gaara, looking politely confused. “Why would I do that when you are not here?” 

Whatever else had happened that evening felt suddenly inconsequential, and Gaara felt profoundly stupid for ever doubting that Lee cared about him. They were friends, good friends even, and Lee was without a doubt the nicest person Gaara had ever known. He felt the prickle of shame, and quickly averted his gaze. Lee had wanted him there after all, and Gaara had been too self-centered to realise it. 

“What? We're not good enough for you?” Naruto asked, playfully kicking Lee under the table. 

“I did not mean that!” Lee said quickly, blocking Naruto's kick with ease. “I just—I simply meant—”

“It's okay, Lee-san,” Sakura quickly interrupted, saving Lee from himself. “We know you don't mean anything by it.” 

“Besides, we'll see you at school tomorrow. You gotta rest up anyways! We can't have our track star staying out late in the middle of the week. What happens if you're too tired to run?” 

“That will never happen!” Lee said heatedly, raising his fist in the air. “I would never allow myself to miss a meet! I promise I will be well rested! I will go to bed right at seven o'clock the Friday before the meet so that I can get plenty of rest! And if I do not—”

“She's joking, Lee-san,” Sakura said, laughing. “We know you won't actually be too tired for the meet.” 

“I don't think I have ever seen you tired,” Sai said thoughtfully.

“That is because I get a full night's sleep every night and always start my days with a balanced breakfast! Sleep is just as important as a healthy diet and exercise, you know!” 

The others laughed, a fondness beneath the sound that had Lee laughing along, albeit a little self-consciously. Gaara watched the interaction, removed and remote. He felt far away from the happiness, as though everything he'd experienced in the last two months had all been a lie. This wasn't really his, this wasn't where he belonged. 

And then Lee looked at him, smiling and happy, including him in his joy as though he'd heard Gaara's doubts. 

“We should head outside,” he said. “Gai-sensei should be here soon.” 

Lee got up, smiling down at Gaara before redirecting his attention to the table. “Thank you for inviting me, Sakura-san. I will see you all at school tomorrow!” 

“Text us when you get home, Gaara,” Sakura said as he rose from his seat to stand next to Lee. 

Gaara came up short, caught off guard by the casual request. “I will.” 

“You too, Lee,” Ino said. “I mean, we know Gai-sensei's a responsible driver, but we just like to be sure.” 

Lee gave them a thumbs up and a winning smile. “And I appreciate your concern! You are wonderful friends. I will give you a call once I am home!” 

“Just text us, Gejimayuu,” Naruto said. “You don't need to call us every time you wanna tell us one lil' thing.” 

“Oh, I suppose that would be less intrusive,” Lee said, looking away. “I always thought it was easier to call.” 

“It's fine, Lee-san,” Sakura said. “You can call me. I don't mind.” 

“I will be sure to do that!” Lee grinned, turning to Gaara. “Shall we?” 

Gaara nodded, following close to Lee as he led them back out into the summer night. Behind them, Naruto shouted, “Bye, Gaara! See you next week!” 

Once outside, Lee gave a content sigh. “It is getting rather late,” he said, turning to Gaara. “I do not normally stay out so late on a weeknight. I am sorry if I was too demanding about you coming tonight, by the way.” 

Gaara stared up at Lee, confused by the comment. “I wanted to come.” 

Lee shuffled his feet, scuffing his foot against the gravel. “Oh, I just thought... Well, you seemed so upset, I thought maybe it was because—” Lee shook himself. “I am being silly! I know that anxiety can be very difficult, sometimes I get anxiety about certain things, too. It is no one's fault, of course, but it is difficult when you are with people.” 

Gaara nodded. “I'm not always good with crowds. This is more than I'm used to, and I—spending so much time out was probably what triggered it.” 

Lee nodded. “That makes sense!” He hesitated, dropping his gaze to the ground. “I am relieved that I was not the cause, though. I would hate it if I had upset you in anyway.” 

Guilt washed over Gaara at Lee's words. It had been Lee, but it hadn't been his fault. No matter how difficult it was to believe at times, he knew Lee wasn't the sort of person to ignore him or care less for him. “You could never do anything to make me upset,” he said, the words unexpected even to Gaara. 

Lee stared, the shock in his face slowly replaced by a glowing smile. “I am so glad. Thank you, Gaara-san. And you know that I feel the same. I mean, I think you are really wonderful, and I am so happy that we could become friends, so do not ever doubt that, okay?” 

Gaara stared into Lee's earnest face, unable to find the words to express just how grateful he was that Lee had said that. He nodded slowly.

Behind them, a familiar and booming voice shouted, “LEE! Gaara! It is so good to see you again so soon!” 

Lee whirled around, grinning from ear to ear. “Gai-sensei!” He waved frenetically, energized by the arrival of his sensei—father, Sakura had assured him. Gaara watched Gai jump out of his minivan, wearing a tracksuit and a fanny pack. Kakashi was sitting in the passenger seat, staring absently at them, his one visible eye crinkled in a smile. Pakkun barked from his lap.

Lee had the strangest family, Gaara thought. It was a good family, a family that had chosen Lee, which seemed so novel to Gaara. His own father would have gladly cast Gaara aside if not for the potential scandal, and his siblings hadn't always loved him. He struggled to wrap his mind around anyone choosing him if he'd been abandoned, if his siblings hadn't learned to love him as they did now. He couldn't imagine what he'd do without Kankurou and Temari.

He watched Lee race up to Gai, who hugged him fiercely before pulling back to listen to Lee's excited babble about the evening. Before Gaara had the chance to feel out of place or on the outskirts of something he could never have, Lee turned back to him, waving him over. 

“Gaara-san, come on!” he shouted. 

Gaara smiled to himself. He was tired from the evening, emotionally and mentally wrung, but there was a silver lining: he was getting to spend one-on-one time with Lee, which really made the whole thing worth it. Lee always managed to do that. Maybe one day he'd figure out how. 

***  
Gaara had never had friends to invite over to his place, but even if he and Naruto hadn't grown distant after that first summer of friendship, he wouldn't have invited him anyways. He'd always liked his private life to be just that: private. He didn't like people knowing every little detail about him, about his life, about his past; and inviting someone into his home would also be inviting questions he didn't want to answer. 

Temari had been relatively popular in high school, Kankurou was too. But even they didn't bother inviting people over. 

“And subject my friends to that demon?” Kankurou had always said by way of explanation. Blaming it on Shukaku's unfriendly nature was easier than admitting the hard truth of the matter. They often avoided discussing anything to do with their father, as though fearful saying his name might summon him from the grave. Despite their resolve to never speak of him unless absolutely necessary, his specter still lingered in the dark places of their family home, a quiet, unassuming poltergeist. 

They didn't want their friends to ever bear witness to that part of themselves. 

Which Gaara realised all too late, sitting in Maito Gai's minivan on the way home. Gai and Lee sang along loudly to upbeat Queen songs, while Pakkun barked obnoxiously in complaint of their singing. Kakashi had a book out, but didn't seem to be paying it much attention, judging from the way he kept trying to share amused looks with Gaara in the side-view mirror. 

The realization that Lee would know where he lived, that Lee would probably want to walk him to his front door, that Lee might _see inside his house_ was too much to bear and it was all Gaara could think about. 

_“—that burns inside of me! I'm hearin' secret harmonies!”_

Gaara watched as shops flashed by the window, beams of light slipping past quickly. The scenery changed all too suddenly and his heart dropped. They were closing in fast. Gaara clenched his phone, belatedly realising he hadn't texted Kankurou—not about staying out late or about being driven home. Originally, Naruto had been planning on dropping Gaara back off at Suna so he could get his car, but there was no chance of Gai letting Gaara drive himself home. 

He'd normally agree, but if he'd been given the option, he would have picked driving himself home—anxiety be damned—over having Lee find out where he lived.

_“—is challenging! The doors of time!”_

Gaara's gaze caught the movements of Lee's reflection. He forced himself to focus on that instead of on the anxiety coiled in his stomach. Lee's eyes were closed as he pretended to sing into a microphone. His voice wasn't nearly as deep as Gai's, but he matched Freddie Mercury with the ease of someone who listened to the band zealously. He was actually a decent singer, though Gaara couldn't always hear him over the music itself and Gai's deep voice. 

He'd heard this song a handful of times while Sunday afternoons passed in a content haze. Lee liked to skip around whenever he was listening to music. Sometimes he'd repeat a song several times before deciding he'd had enough and found a new one to play. Gaara didn't typically like his music to skip around, but sometimes when he was struggling with a piece for piano practice he'd put his music on shuffle until something clicked. 

Lee had asked on several occasions if it bothered Gaara, but Gaara didn't mind nearly as much as he expected he would. Every time Lee settled on a song, it felt like he was learning a little more about Lee; as though he understood what Lee was feeling in the moment. Music had always helped Gaara work through his own emotions, his own traumas and troubles; it made sense that music would help him understand his friends better too. 

The song reached its familiar end, winding down slowly as Freddie Mercury's voice faded. The next song started suddenly, on a soft and trembling note. It was a song Gaara hadn't heard yet. 

_“Can—”_

Lee leaned forward suddenly, startling Gaara. “Skip it,” he said in a hurry.

Gai chuckled, obliging Lee before the song could continue.

Gaara watched Lee as he settled back in his seat, a different and apparently acceptable song playing. Though he'd only heard a few seconds of it, Gaara had thought it sounded like a nice song. “You don't like that song?”

Lee shook his head. “I love that song,” he said, not meeting Gaara's questioning gaze. “But it makes me cry, so I do not like to listen to it when I am with people.”

“Oh,” Gaara said stupidly. Music had always meant more to him than he'd ever known how to put words to. He could understand being moved by a piece so strongly that it led to tears, but what he knew of Queen, it surprised him that any of the music could do such a thing. Everything he'd heard so far was uptempo and so lively—just like Lee.

Knowing this mysterious song could bring Lee to tears made him want to listen to it all the more.

 _“Destination on left,”_ the cool voice of the GPS said, startling Gaara from his musings.

His heart thudded in his chest, a sudden reminder of his anxiety. 

“And we're here!” Gai announced. He leaned forward, looking up at Gaara's home. “Wow! What an impressive home! Your parents must work very hard, Gaara!”

Gaara swallowed, panic rising. He didn't want to talk about his father, he didn't want to talk about his home.

“I will walk you to the door!” Lee said hurriedly, opening the door. “I shall be right back, Gai-sensei!” 

Gaara took the opening and ducked out of the van as fast as he could, doing his best to keep himself from being bothered by Lee's predicable offer to walk him to the door. Lee had stopped just a few steps from the van to stare at Gaara's house.

“You never said you lived in a mansion,” Lee said, the awe in his voice making Gaara's skin crawl.

He stepped around Lee, making for the door quickly. “It's unimportant.”

Lee was beside him in an instant, still staring up at his home as he walked alongside Gaara. “I suppose,” he said quietly. “I just—did not realise how big it was. My place must seem very cramped to you.”

Gaara stopped abruptly, turning to glare at Lee. “What does that mean?”

“I—nothing!” Lee was red in the face and avoiding Gaara's gaze, hands held up in surrender. “I did not mean to upset you.”

“I like your home,” Gaara said flatly. “What does the size have to do with anything?”

Lee shrugged. “I suppose it does not matter,” he said suddenly subdued. “Please forget I said anything.”

Gaara huffed, but he didn't want to press the issue. His door was practically within reach, and so too the blissful privacy of his home. He could say goodbye and be done with this quickly spiraling evening.

"Thank you for the ride home,” he said instead, climbing the short stone steps to his front door. “I appreciate it.”

Lee still wasn't his usual upbeat self, but he smiled at Gaara nonetheless. “It is no trouble. I am happy to help! It was wonderful to see you tonight.”

Gaara found that hard to believe. Though Lee's presence had been a pleasant surprise to begin with, the evening and Gaara's mood had taken a drastic turn.

“Really?” He hadn't actually meant to say anything, but the word tumbled from him like a badly timed joke.

“Of course,” Lee said, stepping closer. He was standing a step below Gaara, making him shorter and forcing him to look up at Gaara. “I came to see you, after all. I do not normally stay out late, but I thought it would be nice to see you because I—well, I do not know if I will be available this Sunday.”

Gaara felt like he'd been dumped in a tub of ice water. “What?”

“I am sorry, I did not want to say anything until I knew for sure, but our track meet is coming up very soon! Gai-sensei has scheduled extra practices for us to ensure that we are ready to take on any challenge! But... well, it will probably interfere with our tutoring session this weekend.”

Gaara didn't know what to say. He'd thought seeing Lee tonight was special, an extra day on top of their usual Sundays. Now he might not have that to look forward to.

“And speaking of my track meet,” Lee said, talking a mile a minute in his nervousness. “I had also wanted to ask you—part of why I wanted to see you tonight, in case I did not see you on Sunday, I mean—well, I wanted to see you in case I did not see you, but I also had a question—I am sorry, I am babbling!” Lee flailed, covering his face with his hands as he turned red all over again.

It was endearing, but a little frustrating all the same. “Lee, just ask.”

Lee dropped his hands, bowing suddenly. “Please, would you like to come to my track meet?”

Gaara stared at the top of Lee's head, more than a little shocked at the request. He usually attended as many of Suna's events as he could—plays, sporting events, recitals, et cettera. As student president, he felt it was his responsibility to support the other students as often as he could.

He'd never gone to an event to support someone from a different school though.

“I—”

“We are not competing against Suna yet,” Lee said all in a rush, looking up at Gaara. “I would not ask you to support me over your own school, of course! But I would really love it if you came!”

Gaara nodded mutely, at a loss for words.

Lee's answering smile was relieved and left Gaara feeling off-balance. “I am so glad! It is next Saturday at my school! Sakura-san will be there, so perhaps you can sit with her.”

“I'll text her,” Gaara said automatically. 

“Great!” Lee hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the minivan. Gaara followed his gaze, watching as Gai and Kakashi quickly turned away. “I... should probably go now. It is late, and I do not want to keep you. I hope you are feeling better.”

An unknown feeling stole over him all too suddenly. He was compelled to do something or say something before Lee left, but he didn't know what and the uncertainty left him feeling awkward, as though a spotlight were on him and an audience were waiting for a rousing speech.

Lee was dithering on the stairs, not quite looking at Gaara, one foot a step below as though he were going to leave any second. Gaara reached out a hand, still unsure what he wanted but sure that he wanted something.

“I—thank you again,” he finally said, his hand falling uselessly at his side. “I'll see you at the meet?"

Lee finally met his gaze, nodding. “Absolutely! And I will let you know if we need to cancel this coming Sunday.”

The thought of not seeing Lee on Sunday filled him with dread. “I hope we don't need to,” he said quietly.

Lee seemed taken aback, his expression slack with surprise as he stared at Gaara. “If—if we have to maybe we can make it up?”

“That would be a good idea. I don't want you to fall behind in your work. You've made a lot of progress.”

Lee seemed to deflate, but he quickly recovered. “Of course not! I promise that even if we do cancel, I will not allow myself to fall behind! I will work three times as hard in the coming weeks so that I can keep my grades up! I hope that the next time we meet, I will be able to impress you with how far I have come!”

Gaara found himself smiling. “I'm sure you will.”

The feeling of something being left unsaid settled in him like a lead weight as Lee smiled up at him, his smile so bright it made Gaara's chest ache. “Good night, Gaara-san.”

“Good night, Lee.”

***

“He was here. Just now.” Kankurou stared, dumbfounded, pointing past Gaara. 

He shrugged. “His dads dropped me off.” 

“You told someone where we live,” Kankurou said. “You—you had a friend _here_.” 

Gaara rolled his eyes. “Make it a national holiday then,” he grumbled, turning away from his brother. “I'm going to my room.” 

“Woah, woah, woah! Wait a minute. First you stay out late without telling me and now you've got friends just—just coming over!” 

“He didn't come over,” he snapped. He wanted to be alone and he wanted to do his homework and he did _not_ want to talk about it. There was nothing to talk about. “He and his dads dropped me off. That's it.” 

Kankurou closed his mouth, flopping back in his chair. “Damn. You're really turning into a regular ol' teenager, huh.” 

“Oh my god,” Gaara groaned. “Give it a rest.” 

Kankurou chuckled. “Just wait 'til I tell Temari.” 

Gaara closed his eyes, praying for patience, before deciding to choose the wiser option of not responding. Kankurou was going to have a field day with this—he'd hardly been lacking for ammunition since meeting Lee or seeing Gaara spend more time with Naruto, but this new development was like a shiny new present for him. Gaara escaped the kitchen and Kankurou before his brother could think of something truly awful to say. A gravely meow sounded from the living room and Shukaku's heavy footsteps followed after him. 

“Are you going to make a big deal of this, too?” he asked, looking down at his cat. 

Shukaku gave him a blurry-eyed, judgmental look before zipping towards Gaara's room to head him off. 

Once inside, Gaara realised, his heart sinking, that he'd left his book bag in his car at school, meaning the majority of his homework was miles away. The responsible thing would be to ask Kankurou to drive him back to school now, but he didn't have the energy to deal with his brother just yet. He collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling, exhausted from the excitement and anxiety of the evening. His thoughts drifted without focus, but always looped back around to Lee standing on his doorstep, smiling up at him as if for the first time. 

It didn't make sense for him to feel weird about going to Lee's meet. He'd spent plenty of time with Lee, they were obviously friends—maybe even good friends—and it was natural to go support a friend. It wasn't the crowds that bothered him either: he'd gone to plenty of sporting events, and always managed to find himself a spot reasonably away from the masses so as not to trigger his anxiety. There was no rhyme or reason for his feelings, and the restlessness from his conversation with Lee still lingered, like the unfinished homework he'd left behind at school. He groaned, running his hands down his face. 

Shukaku jumped onto his bed, a heavy weight beside him. He let a hand fall on his cat's back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. 

“What's wrong with me?” 

Shukaku's answer was, predictably, a warning growl. Gaara pulled his hand away, letting it flop onto the mattress beside the cat, while he waited for something to click. 

Nothing did. 

He rolled over onto his side, staring out his window. The soft yellow glow of street lights made the glass in his window look opaque, as unclear as his thoughts. The night wore on, he didn't get up to ask Kankurou for a ride back to school, and eventually he fell asleep without intending to. He woke to the sound of Kankurou cursing in the hall and the faint gray light of the morning filtering into his room. Shukaku gave an annoyed yowl, a large, fluffy silhouette in Gaara's sleep-blurred vision. His cat stared at him, waiting until awareness finally took hold. 

Gaara bolted up in his bed, staring at the clock on his nightstand.

He still had twenty minutes to get ready for school. He allowed himself a sigh of relief before the memory of his unfinished homework crashed around him. 

And he'd forgotten to feed the cat. 

“Fuck,” he grumbled, getting out of bed and stumbling towards his closet. At least he had time to change into his uniform, but that was hardly enough to lift his spirits. He threw his clothes on, while Shukaku watched him intently, waiting for the moment Gaara would open his bedroom door and release him from the torment of starvation. 

“Mrowww!” Shukaku wailed at the door when Gaara had taken longer than five minutes. 

“I'm coming,” he snapped, practically yanking his door off its hinges as he barreled into the hall. 

“Oi!” Kankurou shouted, nearly colliding with Gaara. “Did you oversleep?” 

Gaara gave him a long suffering stare before marching into the kitchen after his cat. 

“That's a lot of oversleeping you've been doin', huh,” Kankurou pointed out from the hall. His keys jangled obnoxiously in his hand, his bag slung carelessly over his shoulder. “Maybe you should slow down on the socializing next week.” 

Gaara rushed to get Shukaku's food portioned out just right before plopping the bowl onto the floor. Shukaku didn't even have the decency to pretend like he was grateful before he began scarfing down his food, making annoyed little sounds as he did. 

“Gaara, are you listening to me?” 

“Yes, _mom_ ,” Gaara ground out. 

“Don't be a dick,” Kankurou shot back. “I'm only sayin', you don't normally wake up so late and it's been happening a lot lately. If having a social life is messin' up your schedule—”

“Yes, it's messing up my schedule, but I like having a social life. I like feeling normal for once in my fucked up life,” he snapped. “Do we have to do this right now? We're both going to be late.” 

Kankurou gave Gaara a narrow-eyed look, his gaze sliding briefly to the clock on the microwave behind Gaara. “All right, but we're gonna talk about this tonight with Temari.” 

Gaara barely managed not to groan. Temari had always been more hands on with her emotions and her approach to Gaara and Kankurou, but she'd also understood when was the right time to interfere and when was best to back off. Kankurou was clearly trying, but it was uncharted territory for him and he still hadn't gotten his footing. For a moment, Gaara's gaze lingered on Kankurou's cast, guilt flaring up at the proof of their recent struggles. 

“Fine,” he muttered, brushing past Kankurou. “We can have a family meeting and you can tell Temari all about how I had a friend drop me off.” 

“And about your anxiety.” 

Gaara sighed. “Fine. Can we just go?” 

This was going to be a long day. 

***  
The day went downhill almost immediately when he arrived at school and realised that the assignment due that day for Literature was still sitting on his desk at home. the only one of his assignments that hadn't been in his book bag. His teacher was understanding and granted him permission to bring it the next day—he'd never turned anything in late before, after all. Small mercies or no, that combined with his late start, his muddled thoughts from the night before, and the prospect of a family meeting had ignited a mood so irritable he felt twelve all over. 

When his phone rang at the start of lunch, the caller ID informing him unnecessarily that it was Lee, his heart dropped. 

“Lee?” 

“Gaara-san,” Lee answered, his voice warm but subdued. 

_Oh no._

“You're canceling Sunday,” Gaara said flatly. 

“I am so sorry.” Lee sounded genuinely sad, possibly even close to tears. “I really wish I could, but Gai-sensei has scheduled a full day of training. I promise I will make it up to you, though!” 

Gaara took a steadying breath, counting back from ten as silence stretched between them through the static. “It's fine,” he finally said. “It's not your fault. You don't have to make anything up to me.” 

“But I want to!” Lee insisted. “Please. I feel terrible about this! And with my midterm coming up, I really should not be skipping out on any sessions, but if there is any chance we can make up for this after our meet—”

“I'll figure something out.” 

“Are you sure? I do not want to inconvenience you.” 

“You're not an inconvenience,” Gaara said, his tone hard. 

“I—okay.” He could almost hear the smile in Lee's voice. “If you are sure.” 

“I am.” 

Lee didn't say anything for a full thirty-seconds. Gaara usually didn't mind silence, but with Lee it always felt strange, like he was waiting for something. The feeling from the night before hadn't been forgotten, simply overridden in the face of his irritability, but as the silence stretched, Gaara was reminded of it keenly. 

“I'll miss you this Sunday,” he said before he'd even had time to think through what he was saying. 

Lee made a strange sound into the phone before squeaking out, his voice tight with barely contained emotion, “Really?” 

Gaara floundered, staring wide-eyed at the wall of lockers before him, trying to think of something to say. Of course he would miss Lee. They'd spent every Sunday together for so long now that Gaara wasn't sure he'd know how to pass his time without Lee. Perhaps he could organize their next tutoring session, work on some review materials for Lee's midterm—that sounded like a good idea. 

“I will miss you, too.” The warmth in Lee's voice made every inch of Gaara's skin tingle. His face warmed for no discernible reason and when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came. 

Finally, he managed, “Good—good luck. With your training.” 

“I promise I will do my utmost best!” Gaara was fairly certain Lee was giving him a thumbs up. “If I do not place at this meet, then I will just upgrade my training!”

“You already train so much,” Gaara said. “I don't see how you could do anymore.” 

“Oh, I am sure that I could find something to help me improve! Perhaps if I add an hour to my usual running time, and then upgrade my weights—”

“Are you on the phone?” Kankurou's voice was heavy with disbelief. 

“Lee, I have to go.” 

“Wha—oh! I am so sorry! I am interrupting your lunchtime! Please forgive me!” 

“Don't worry about it,” Gaara said, glancing at Kankurou who was staring slack jawed at Gaara. “I'll text you when I've figured out what day will work best to make up our session.” 

“Please do! I cannot wait to see you! Good bye!” 

The called ended, and Gaara turned to face his brother fully. “Well?” 

Kankurou shook his head, snapping his mouth shut. “You look upset.” 

Gaara shrugged, turning back around to his open locker. “Lee had to cancel Sunday.” 

Kankurou, who could out act just about anyone but still managed in his day-to-day life to have all the emotional complexity of a sloth, placed a heavy hand on Gaara's shoulder. It was a brief moment, over before Gaara had the time to process the touch or the importance of the gesture. “I'm sorry, man. I know you really look forward to that.” 

He avoided his brother's gaze, gathering his books with a methodical obsessiveness. “We're going to make it up. He has to train for the upcoming track meet.” 

“Oh, right. I forgot he was a jock,” Kankurou said, unable to resist the chance to tease Lee. 

Gaara rolled his eyes, but he didn't have the energy to be properly annoyed. “He invited me.” 

“What? Invited you where?” 

“To the meet. To watch him.” 

“Um, that's cool?” The question in Kankurou's voice was like the unvoiced questions Gaara still hadn't figured out how to put words to. 

“He said he'd miss me. This Sunday.” Kankurou silence was heavy and when Gaara turned to look at him, he found found Kankurou staring at him, a strangely serious expression on his face. “What?” 

“Nothing, lil brother.” Kankurou cracked a grin, but Gaara knew him well enough to know he was lying. “So, you're goin', yeah?” 

Gaara allowed the topic change, only because they'd already had a rocky day. He didn't need Kankurou digging his heels in when Gaara asked him to elaborate on something that had clearly gone over his head. It would just frustrate him more, and he'd had enough frustrations for one week.

“I'm going,” he finally said, more to himself than to answer Kankurou. That question still lingered. 

“Can I come? I wanna see what the competition is like.” 

Gaara snorted. “You hate sports.” 

Kankurou laughed. “Yeah, but I still wanna go. See what your friend is capable of. It's track, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So, what? He just... runs?” 

Gaara shrugged. “I think so.” 

“Right, well, that sounds riveting. I'm really looking forward to watching Bowl-Cut run. I'm sure we'll all be on the edge of our seats.” 

Gaara gave his brother a side-wise look. “Don't be a jerk to him. He works hard.” 

“I'm sure he does,” Kankurou agreed, nodding sagely. “And I'm sure I'll fall asleep in the hot sun while a bunch of nerds run around a field. But hey, he's your friend. If you like him, I don't mind suffering through sports for a day.” 

“Your generosity is quite moving,” Gaara deadpanned. “I'll be sure to tell Lee how much you're looking forward to his meet.” 

Kankurou snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “Tell 'im I'm his number one fan.” 

“Then, as his number one fan, will you be bringing him flowers? Anyway, I need to get to the library.” 

“'Course you do. You spend more time with those books than you do with me,” he said, putting on a sad face. Gaara was not fooled. “Anyway, Temari's gonna come by tonight for dinner. We can have our family meeting then.” 

Gaara had almost forgotten about the family meeting. “Great.” 

“Have fun with your books,” Kankurou chuckled, ruffling Gaara's hair as he brushed past heading for the cafeteria. “And find out what flowers Bowl-Cut likes for me!” 

***

“Welcome home.” Temari's voice drifted in from the kitchen, accompanied by the smell of food. Gaara hadn't thought about it much, but now that she was here, he'd missed her constant presence. Coming home to the house smelling of herbs and the sound of Temari's voice was soothing, like a salve on an old wound. He had often thought, in those first few months of rebuilding his relationship with Temari after their father's death, that _this_ was what it meant to have a mother. 

She wasn't exactly motherly—she had been too young, floundering in a tempest of her own emotions while trying to learn how to be an adult prematurely; how to go from big sister to the mother she'd only barely known. She stumbled, she failed, she got angry, she wasn't always warm or kind, but she tried. She tried harder than anyone else, and she loved harder than anyone else too. She had gone out of her way, at only fifteen, to shield Gaara from the fallout after their father's death; she'd carried their family through, she'd bridged the gap between herself and Gaara, helped Kankurou to bridge that same gap, and she'd built a home out of a nightmare. Even if she was not his mother, she was who he measured all mothers by. 

“How was school?” she asked, coming from the kitchen when he took too long to greet her in return. 

He shrugged. “Uneventful.” 

“Kankurou didn't start any food fights in the cafeteria today?” she asked with a laugh. 

“I was in the library at lunch, but I didn't hear anything.” 

Temari sighed, shaking her head. “Oh, to be young. High school seems like such a... simple time.” 

Kankurou was the drama queen of the family, but there were times that Temari could give him a run for his money. She must have been in a good mood, despite the looming family meeting. 

“You're chipper,” Gaara said flatly. 

Temari snorted. “Can't I be happy to have an excuse to spend the evening with my little brothers?” 

Gaara gave her a pointed look. “No, because usually when Kankurou texts you about me you panic.”

Temari pressed her lips together, trying for a straight face. She couldn't out-stare Gaara, though, and gave up, all the air coming out of her on a stifled laugh. “Okay, okay. Look, normally—yes, you're right—I'd be freaking out, but I know Kankurou and I know this is just him being melodramatic.” 

“And how do you know that?” 

Temari took her phone out of her pocket with a pointed look at Gaara. She tapped the screen twice, before clearing her throat and proclaiming, in her best drawl, “'Yo, sis, sorry to bother you. I'm worried about Gaara. He got dropped off by the Bowl-Cut's dads—'I have to say, I'm impressed you let anyone know our address, oh and this part is in all caps—'an hour after he said he'd be home. And then this mornin' he wakes up late and he was all cranky and crotchety about it too.'”

“Geez, what am I? An old man?” Gaara groused, smiling at Temari. He had to admit, hearing everything out loud from Temari did make it all seem incredibly mundane. Maybe it was just Kankurou being melodramatic. 

Temari's eyebrows rose, her mouth quirking. “Gaara, you may be the youngest of us, but let's face it: you're as old as the money that bought this house was dirty. When I'm graduating college, you'll be joining the geriatrics club.” 

Gaara snorted. “Guess I should sit outside and yell at kids to get off my lawn.” 

“Smartass. Anyways, Kankurou's worried about you—and I get it, this is new for all of us—but he's just being ridiculous.” 

“Then why did you come?” 

“Partly because I needed a break from college life and partly because I want to smack him upside the head. He's overcompensating since I'm not here, and he's forgotten to give you space.” 

“This is why I love you the most,” Gaara said with a quiet smile, stepping past Temari and heading for the kitchen. 

Temari was quiet for a beat too long, but before Gaara could second-guess his choice of words she said, “I won't lie though. I do want to know what's been going on with you. How are you dealing with all this? I mean, you're usually a crank if you wake up late, but what about the rest of it?” 

Gaara hesitated. How was he handling everything? What was it he was struggling to handle? Was it staying out later than planned? Was it being in big crowds? Was it allowing someone to see where he lives? 

“I don't know,” he said, a pained expression flitting across his face. “Half the time I think I'm handling everything well, all things considered. Then something triggers my anxiety and I feel like a freak all over again.” 

“What's triggering your anxiety?” Temari returned her attention to the large pot on the stove where something was simmering. “Is there anything in particular or is it more general?” 

“I guess it's a bit of both,” he said carefully, dropping his bag on the table and taking a seat. “I started having trouble last night when Lee got there.” 

“Really?” Temari asked, her voice hitching in surprise. 

“I was doing fine, but when we got to the car, I couldn't sit in back with him because it was too cramped.” 

“Well, that's not too unusual for you. What made it so frustrating this time?” 

Gaara frowned. “I wanted to sit with Lee, but I couldn't because of my anxiety.” 

Temari hummed as if that made all the sense in the world, stirring the pot of food. “Of course. It's your anxiety getting in the way of what you want, making you feel like you're not actually making progress.” 

“But that triggered more problems. All night I was struggling. Lee finally noticed and offered to leave early so his dads could take me home.” 

“He's a sweet kid,” she said, tapping the ladle on the edge of the pot and turning to him. “Well, from my perspective, I think you're being a bit too hard on yourself. Not even six months ago, you wouldn't have been caught dead hanging out with anyone, never mind having someone drop you off at home. You're doing great, Gaara. You just don't have the perspective to see that.” She gave him one of her warmest smiles—it was a smile he seldom saw, but one that lit up her face. She was like a sunflower, vibrant and golden. It was the smile she'd given him and Kankurou when she'd finally won the case for emancipation and been allowed to be their legal guardian after their father's death; it was the smile she'd given him when he'd first cried on her shoulder; it was the smile she'd given him when he'd told her that he didn't actually want to die, as she sat by his bedside in a hospital holding his hand for dear life. 

He felt warm at her words and warmer at her smile, but a thought lodged itself in his brain like a splinter that no tweezers could get at. He thought back to Lee's smile, blinding and vibrant and warm in ways different from Temari's. 

“There's something else,” he managed, turning his gaze to his own hands.

“What is it?” 

“I don't even know,” he admitted. “That's what's so frustrating. I feel like I'm missing something, like I should know what it is, but I can't figure it out. It's—when I was saying goodbye to Lee last night, I felt like there was something I needed to do or say. I feel like that all the time now, but I don't know why.” 

When he looked up at Temari again, her expression was soft and warm, but her smile was a whispered secret. “That sounds confusing. You're not sure what's causing it?” 

Gaara shook his head. “No. I feel restless all the time, but there's no reason for it.” 

“Well, at the risk of sounding like a psyche major, there's probably a reason for it that you're just not ready to face. It's something subconscious, so when you're ready—if it's important and doesn't go away—then it'll probably run you over like a train.” 

“That's very comforting.”

“What are big sisters for?” she asked before sticking her tongue out at him. “Anyways, why don't you help me finish dinner—”

“I have homework to catch up on—”

“Finish that sentence,” she warned. 

“—which I will finish after dinner.” 

Temari gave him a cheeky smile as he joined her at the stove. 

***

His conversation with Temari made things easier for a solid twenty-four hours before the doubt crept back in—he wasn't doing enough, he was backsliding, his friends really did hate him... There was a litany of irritating chatter in his mind, day in and day out, and it kept him from texting anyone back despite needing to make plans for the day of Lee's track meet. Though his social life felt as though it were quickly spiraling out of control, he was able to catch up with all of his school work. This did little to comfort him however, because he was so overwrought that he forgot at least half of what he'd read before the week was through.

His only saving grace was that, though he was no longer looking forward to the weekend, at least he wouldn't have to spend time around anyone but his siblings. Temari had promised to come by over the weekend to spend some quality time with her brothers and though she didn't say as much Gaara knew it was so she could secretly make sure that Kankurou wasn't being overbearing and that Gaara was actually doing all right. 

He wasn't, but he knew it could be worse, which was at least a vote in his favor. 

While the week itself dragged by, Saturday dawned bright, beautiful, and beckoning imminent personal suffering because Gaara didn't have Sunday to look forward to. He was being melodramatic at this point—melodrama must have run in the family, he thought sardonically—but he sat in his bed, staring morosely out his window for a full ten minutes before he dragged himself out of bed. 

There was plenty of homework to do for the weekend, in addition to preparing for his other tutoring clients and Lee's next session, but most importantly, he realised he could spend at least a part of the day playing piano. He hadn't paid nearly enough attention to what piece he was going to perform for the end of year concert, and now that he was abstaining from social interaction until the following Saturday, he felt the dread sink in. 

He still had eight months before the concert, but that didn't feel like enough time—not when scholarships were riding on it, not when his future could be decided by the tiniest of mistakes. It didn't even matter that he still had one more year of high school and plenty of other scholarship opportunities. Gaara wanted _this_ scholarship more than anything. 

The scholarship in question was to the Rouran Conservatory, a school famous for producing some of the country and even the world's most renowned musicians. Plus, it had the added bonus of being just far enough away from home that Gaara wouldn't feel as though he were trapped, but close enough that he knew Temari and Kankurou wouldn't panic at the prospect of him going away. Even if Temari was better about giving him his space, moving too far would probably not go over particularly well with her. The flier for the scholarship was pinned to his wall right above his desk, a constant reminder that he'd allowed himself to overlook for too long now. It was irresponsible, but the part of him that sounded just like Temari told him it was also understandable. After all, he'd never had a social life before. 

He sighed, flipping through his day planner and checking what assignments he had for the weekend, while behind him, Shukaku finally decided to start protesting the fact that Gaara had not yet fed him. 

“You're not going to die,” he told his cat as he stepped away from his desk and moved to the door. Shukaku, foolish cat that he was, decided that trying to trip Gaara on his way to the kitchen was the best sort of revenge. He failed only in making Gaara fall, not in annoying him. 

“Maybe I will let you starve,” Gaara threatened, grabbing a fresh can of cat food and a clean dish. “That would teach you not to trip people.” 

“Mrow,” Shukaku quipped. 

Once Shukaku was fed and out of Gaara's hair for the time being, he decided that the best way to start his day would be with the piano. He wasn't in a good mood and he'd had too much trouble focusing this week; the best remedy for that was some time with his music. 

The music room had always been his favourite place in the house. It was the only place as a child where his father had never bothered him, where his siblings cold distance didn't touch him, where Yashamaru's death didn't haunt him. He had always been safe with music. 

It was no different now. The moment he stepped inside, sunlight filtering in from the high windows to land on the pearly white grand piano that his father had never wanted him to touch as a child, Gaara felt transported. Nothing mattered here: not his mental health, not his million and one responsibilities, not Kankurou's broken hand, not the fact that he wasn't going to see Lee tomorrow. It all faded away to background noise.

The piano bench was cool to the touch despite the warm afternoon sunshine, and when he lifted the heavy wooden cover on the keys they glittered in the light. Sometimes he wished he never had to leave this room; sometimes he wished he could simply fade away and become music itself. No depression, no anxiety, no trauma. He wondered what sort of music he would be, what sort of song. Would he be a sonata? Would he make people cry? Would they laugh? 

When the pieces he was supposed to be practicing didn't feel right, he often switched to music of his own making; to the music he thought he might be. He wondered how that had changed since the start of the school year. 

He touched one cool, white key, allowing the weight of his finger to push it down until a trembling, heavy note echoed across the room. He took a careful seat, pressing the same key again. And then again. He settled, relaxing into position; his hands came to rest gently on the keys as though they had never left and his feet found the pedals as though they were an extension of himself. 

The music washed over him, slow and curious, soft and sleepy. It rose up in volume, until it was a cacophony of confusion. His fingers danced across keys, like poetry being written; his heart beat a little faster as new feelings flowed into the notes. He didn't have the words for everything he'd been feeling lately, but he had his music. 

Music would always carry him through. 

***

The noise coming from Konoha's stadium was deafening. Gaara thought for a heart-stopping moment that he'd misunderstood Sakura and arrived late, but before he had time to panic, Kankurou nudged him and pointed towards a familiar figure through the small crowd gathered near the entrance. 

“Pink hair, right?” he asked, giving Sakura a once over. She was leaning against Ino, both of them dressed in matching crop tops with the words WE WILL ROCK YOU in flaming green letters on them. 

“Gaara!” Sakura called when she spotted him. She waved excitedly, grabbing Ino and pulling her forward. “I was worried you'd get lost in the crowd.” 

“Are we late?” Kankurou elbowed him in the ribs, more pointedly than before. “This is my brother, Kankurou.” 

“Yo.” Kankurou gave them both a quick nod, grinning cheekily. “Nice shirt.” 

“Oh, we got you one too, Gaara,” Ino said, pulling a shirt from her bag. “It's not a crop top, don't worry.” 

“And you're not late,” Sakura added. “We still have fifteen minutes before it starts. Naruto and Sai saved us seats.” 

Gaara took the shirt with a nod. “It's already so loud.” 

Ino laughed, turning towards the stadium. “Oh, just wait until it starts.” 

“You mean it's gonna get even louder?” Kankurou asked, jaw dropping. “Didn't realise track was such hot shit.” 

Ino snorted, sharing a look with Sakura. “It's not track that's hot,” she threw over her shoulder with a smirk. She and Sakura entwined their fingers together, leading Gaara and Kankurou through the crowd and into the stadium proper. Gaara stared at the back of Sakura's shirt which had a bold, green 08 framed by the phrase 'Konoha's Beautiful Blue Beast' in thick, black characters. He unraveled his own shirt, holding it up to check the fit before pulling it on over his head. Once inside the stadium, the noise from the Konoha side somehow took on new volume, washing over Gaara with an overwhelming force. 

_”WE! WILL! WE! WILL! ROCK YOU!”_

On the other side of the stadium, in the visitors section, the supporters of Kiri were quiet by comparison. Gaara was used to the sort of energy that Kiri's supporters exuded: loud and excited, but reasonable for an outdoor event. Konoha, on the other hand, was like stepping onto a battlefield. The noise, the energy, the bodies filling the stands—it all coalesced into a storm of overwrought energy that Gaara hadn't been prepared for. 

“How come I don't get a shirt?” Kankurou shouted over the noise, climbing the stairs after Sakura and Ino. 

“Sorry,” Sakura said, making her way down one of the front rows towards a screaming Naruto. “We didn't think you'd want one and I didn't know your size.” 

“Aw, but I'm here supportin' Bowl-Cut, too.” 

Sakura rolled her eyes, smiling. “Tenten,” she called, leaning into the row in front of theirs. “Do you have any extra shirts? Gaara's brother wants to show his school spirit.” 

Tenten stopped her intense chanting to dig through her bag. She pulled out another shirt and passed it to Kankurou. “That's all I got. Take it or leave it, bud.” 

Kankurou unrolled the shirt, revealing a crop top like Ino's and Sakura's. Kankurou whistled. “Well, I've always said I have a good bod.” 

Ino snorted into her hand. 

“We'll be matching,” Sai said on Naruto's other side. He was also wearing a crop top. 

Kankurou grinned. “Crop tops are in,” he said, before taking his own shirt off and replacing it with the crop top. It was a little too tight across his chest, but it still fit. “There. How do I look?” he asked, turning to Gaara. 

“Like you belong in a '90s boy band,” Gaara drawled, taking his seat. He curled in on himself, as though that might protect him from the oppressive noise of the stadium. 

“That,” Kankurou said, “is the nicest thing you've ever said to me.” He wiped away a fake tear, taking his seat on Gaara's other side, shifting so that his body acted as a shield from anyone who might try to talk to Gaara that he didn't know. On his other side, Sakura plopped down, keeping a respectable distance and only clapping along with the rest of the stadium. 

“If you need to take a break for any reason,” she said, leaning closer so he could hear her, “I'm sure Lee will understand.” 

“No,” Gaara said stiffly. “I'm fine.” 

“Gaara's here?!” Naruto's loud voice crowed over the chanting. “Oi! Gaara! Come sit over here, man!” 

“I'm fine,” he repeated flatly. 

“So,” Kankurou said, derailing Naruto before he could get started. “What's with the shirts? It looks like everyone here has one.” 

Tenten turned around, grinning. “It's for Lee. I mean, he literally carries this track team to nationals every year. Sai's the genius behind the shirt's design.”

“What can I say? Graphic design is my passion,” Sai said blandly, causing Naruto to laugh raucously beside him. “Second only to Naruto's dick.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Sai!” Naruto shoved at Sai, who dodged, causing Naruto to accidentally falling over into the front row and onto Kiba and Hinata. 

Hinata gave a surprised squeal, her face turning beat red as she stared down at Naruto, who only grinned cheekily back up at her. 

“Lay off, Naruto!” Kiba snapped. 

“Aw, am I crampin' your style?” Naruto teased. 

“Yeah, and I'm about to cramp your face!” 

Kankurou chuckled beside Gaara, watching the exchange. “Your friends sure are... not what I expected.” 

Gaara glanced at him, but was too anxious to ask what he meant. 

“Oh, here.” Tenten handed Gaara a piece of paper that turned out to be the day's schedule. “Lee's not gonna be on for a little while. He would do jumps, but he already does so many categories that Gai-sensei made him drop those.” 

Looking down at the schedule, Gaara felt a pang of anxiety. This was going to last the entire day, going well into the evening. It would be one thing if it weren't for the noise, but he was sure he couldn't take the cacophony for that long. 

“Lee does a little of everything,” Tenten went on, oblivious to Gaara's distress. “But his specialty is running, so we're not gonna see him out there for at least two hours. I'd recommend getting some food before then.” 

Gaara's gaze snapped to hers. She was giving him a measured look, understanding in her gaze. “That's a good idea,” he managed. 

“Do you want us to text you when Lee's going on?” Sakura asked. 

“Yeah,” Gaara said simply before getting up and quickly making a break for it. 

“Oi! Do you want me to come with?” Kankurou shouted after him, but Gaara waved him off, hurrying down the stairs and out of the stadium. 

***

“It's really that bad?” Temari asked, her voice distant in the phone. 

“It's so loud,” Gaara repeated. “Suna's games are never this loud.” 

Temari laughed. “It's only track,” she said. “What's so special about—”

A vaguely familiar voice beside her said, “It's cause of Lee.” 

Gaara could almost hear the roll of Temari's eyes as she said, “I get the kid's good at running, but come on.” 

“You'll see when we get there.” 

“Are you going to be here soon?” Gaara asked, interrupting Temari and Shikamaru's conversation. 

“Yeah, we're five minutes away. We brought provisions—plenty of food for everyone.” 

“Thanks,” Gaara said quietly. “I'll meet you at the front.” 

“See ya!” 

Gaara ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket and getting out of his car. The noise from the stadium, dulled in the safety of his car, washed over him again. He took in a steadying breath, reminding himself that he could do this. He wouldn't let his anxiety get in the way of this, not now; not when he wanted to support Lee. 

There was the sound of an engine and wheels rolling across pavement, and when he turned to look he spotted Temari pulling up beside his car. Shikamaru sat in the passenger seat and in the backseat was Chouji and Karui. 

“Nice shirt,” Temari said, getting out of her car, a bag of food in hand. The others piled out, all laden down with more bags of food and drinks. 

“Lil help,” Shikamaru said, holding up a tray of drinks. Gaara quickly grabbed took it from him. 

“So what's with the shirt?” Temari asked. 

“It's for Lee,” Gaara said. “Tenten said he's the track star.” 

“Konoha really does like to hype up track, huh,” she said. “It was never this big a deal at Suna.” She stared past Gaara to the raucous stadium. “No wonder you had to leave. Will you be okay going back in there?” 

“Yes,” Gaara said, more viciously than he'd meant. He wouldn't turn back, he wouldn't let himself cave. 

Temari gave him a level look before nodding. “Cool, let's go.”

As Gaara led Temari and the others into the stadium, the chanting died, replaced by the buzz of chatter. The sudden shift in sound was almost as nerve wrecking as the noise itself. He looked around the now much quieter stadium, watching as people congregated on the steps or made their way to the bathrooms. He spotted their group much more easily with the crowd thinning: Kankurou was laughing at something Sakura had said, Naruto was on his feet and practically screaming the chant while Sai watched him with his usual bland smile. Tenten was the first to notice Gaara's return. 

“Ohh! Food!” she cried, pointing at the group. “All hail Shikamaru, bringer of food!” 

“Temari's the one you should hail,” he scoffed as they began passing out the bags of food and trays of drinks. “ _I_ didn't wanna make any extra stops.” 

“Lazy bastard,” Ino said affectionately. 

“Temari?” Kiba said, his voice cracking with fear. “Like—as in—your—”

“Oh, you must be Kiba,” Temari said, grinning. “I've heard so much about you.” 

“N-nice to meet you,” he said, scooting farther down the row and right into Hinata. 

“So what did we miss?” Karui asked, squeezing in between Ino and Naruto. 

“Well, so far it's pretty even. Kiri's got a good team this year—way better than last year. They kicked our ass at the high jump, but we totally wiped the floor with them on pole vaulting. Shot put was pretty even, but I think we scraped a win for javelin.” 

Karui whistled. “Damn. Too bad Lee couldn't be in for the high jump. Then you'd be a sure win.” 

“Ain't that the truth,” Kiba agreed. 

“Is Lee up soon?” Gaara asked, taking a seat between his siblings.

“Yeah, right after intermission,” Tenten said. “They just posted the scores for throwing before you got here. Intermission just started, so it'll be another fifteen minutes before the runners are up.” 

“Good, cause I gotta piss,” Kankurou said, getting to his feet and stretching. 

Temari snorted. “Bringing back men in crop tops, I see.” 

“Hey, someone in the family has to be a fashion icon.” 

“Are you saying that I don't have fashion sense?” Temari asked archly. 

“Nah, 'course not, sis. But you have to admit, style is more my forte. You're more like an icon of... talking.” 

“Talking.” Temari stared flatly. “I see.” 

“You know what I mean! You're better at debate and shit.” 

“Go piss, Kankurou. Before I punch you.” 

“Goin', goin'!” Kankurou jumped down into the row before them to avoid Temari, squeezing past Neji and Tenten. 

“So, what's Lee in?” Temari asked. “Hundred meter? Or does he do the middle distance stuff?” 

Tenten turned to Temari, giving her a toothy grin. “All of it.” 

“All of it?” Temari repeated, doubt in her voice.

“I mean, Lee does sprints, middle distance, _and long distance_. He does it all. That's why he's not in for jumps or throwing.” 

“And that's why we're gonna ROCK THEM!” Naruto jeered, and behind him there was a cheer of agreement from the gathered Konoha supporters still in their seats. 

_“We will! We will! ROCK THEM!”_ the crowd shouted in response.

“Your school really does get into this track thing,” Temari said, glancing at Shikamaru. 

“Oh, just wait. You'll see,” Tenten said, settling back into her seat beside Neji.

Slowly, the crowd began returning to their seats and the chatter grew in volume until it was roaring in Gaara's ears all over again. Around him, his friends and siblings talked idly, laughing and making jokes while they ate their food. Gaara was eased only the fact that his siblings created a sort of blockade around him, allowing him some semblance of comfort in the mass of bodies and noise. Fifteen minutes passed in a dissonant blur of sound, but before long movement on the track caught Gaara's eyes. His gaze darted to the group of Konoha runners gathered around the familiar figure of Maito Gai. They all wore the same red uniforms with white numbers on their backs. 

Gaara searched eagerly for any sign of Lee, but he didn't see him.

“Where's Lee?” he asked, unable to help himself. But Lee appeared a moment later, his black hair shining in the bright summer sunshine and the number 08 reflecting on the back of his track shirt.

All around Gaara, the crowd cheered and took up the chanting once more. This time it was somehow more thunderous than before, and now it was accompanied by the heavy stomping of feet against the bleachers, making them tremble. 

_“WE! WILL! WE! WILL! ROCK YOU!”_ Each word was punctuated by a heavy stomp and the sharp clap of hundreds of hands. Even Kankurou was getting into it now. 

Lee turned, grinning at the crowd with a smile tinged with a humble sort of pride. His gaze roamed over the stands, searching the front rows until it alighted on his friends. He found Gaara a second later, his smile growing broader and brighter, and he waved for all he was worth. 

Kankurou elbowed Gaara, laughing. “Bowl-Cut sure is happy to see you!” 

Gaara waved back, smiling softly. Lee gave him a thumbs up, before turning back to his team. 

“Oh, he's definitely gonna beat his old record now,” Tenten muttered, glancing back at Gaara. 

“When hasn't he?” Neji asked. “Just yesterday he said he beat his old time by three seconds.” 

“True, but I think he'll be even more motivated today.” 

Neji snorted. “There has never been a day in his life that he's been unmotivated.” 

Tenten rolled her eyes. “You're so romantic, Neji.” 

Neji frowned at Tenten, brow furrowed in confusion. “Care to explain what romance has to do with Lee?” 

“Never mind,” she said, shaking her head. 

Out on the field, the runners were taking their place for the first event: the hundred meter dash. 

A voice echoed over the field, announcing the event. “Welcome back, folks! It's finally time for the highly anticipated and never disappointing—Running! Konoha's favorite track star is as ready and as youthful as ever! Isn't that right, Lee?” 

Lee gave a thumbs up in the direction the commentator must have been sitting, a blush creeping up his neck and face. He quickly got back into position, crouching down at the starting line and staring forward with all the determination Gaara had come to expect of him. 

“I hope Kiri is ready to be left in the dust because WE—”

The crowd joined in with the commentary, “WILL!” 

“ROCK YOU!” 

Thunderous applauds took over the stadium as a shot rang out over the field and the runners took off. Gaara had barely blinked before Lee had disappeared from his line of sight. 

“Holy shit,” Temari breathed beside Gaara. On his other side, Kankurou's mouth fell open. 

“Told ya,” Tenten said, grinning back at them. 

The hundred meter dash was over before it had even started. The Konoha crowd was up in arms, shouting their chant at the top of their lungs with such gusto Gaara was amazed anyone still had voice left to shout with. The next event—the 150 meter dash, followed quickly by the 200, 400, and 800—should have brought the home bleachers crashing down, so intense was the chanting and stomping. 

Each event, Lee took part in. Each event, Lee won. And every win seemed to ignite a fire in Lee and the crowd that was unparalleled to anything Gaara had ever seen before.

“Damn!” Kankurou yelled, on hid feet and cheering, as Lee reached the finish line of the 400 meter dash. “I never knew running could be so exciting.” 

“He's incredible,” Temari agreed. “How can anyone be that fast?”

“He trains with leg weights,” Gaara said absently, watching Lee celebrate yet another victory at the other end of the track. 

“Damn, what do they weigh—a ton? He practically flies across the field.” 

Lee did look as though he were flying. He ran as though nothing could stop him, as though he were made of nothing but speed and adrenaline. Even after running in four separate events, Lee was the epitome of energy. 

Kiri's runners were watching Lee with an air of the chronically resigned, save for a few who were staring at him with their mouths hanging open. For his part, Lee was completely oblivious to the stares from the other runners, consumed with excitement at his win. Gaara wondered if Lee had ever lost a race a day in his life.

As Lee was returning to the starting position, getting ready for the final event—the 3K run—he caught Gaara's eye as he passed the stands. Hes skin glistened with sweat, his smile bright from his victory, and when he spotted Gaara he seemed to glow. Gaara felt as though he'd been electrocuted; the hairs on his arms standing up, his skin prickling with heat, his heart beating loudly in his ears, stars in his eyes. He held Lee's gaze, unable to look away, as Lee took up his place at the starting line. 

“Ohhh, here we go!” Sakura said a couple seats away. Gaara barely heard her; Lee was still looking at him, still smiling at him. 

Gaara felt as though time had come to a stand still. Nothing moved. Sound faded away. 

And then the shot rang out and the runners were off. Lee hesitated for only a few short seconds, still staring at Gaara, before he took off like a laser beam shooting down the track. The Kiri runner who'd miraculously taken the lead fell behind Lee in a matter of seconds. 

“Did you see that?” Naruto asked loudly as the crowd took up it's chant once again. “Lee started late. What was that about?” 

“He's probably just showin' off,” Kiba said matter-of-factly. “Or maybe it's a tactic—you know, lure them into a false sense of security! Make 'em think he's tired.” 

The conversation died as the runners came back around the track for the second lap and the chanting grew in volume and energy. Lee had a considerable lead, but was keeping his pace steady so as not to burn out before the final lap. As he crossed the starting line, he found Gaara in the crowd once more and just as before, flashed him a golden smile. 

“Why's Lee keep lookin' over here?” Naruto asked. “PAY ATTENTION, GEJIMAYU!” 

Naruto's words were lost beneath the chanting of the crowd, but Gaara was certain it was unnecessary. Lee wasn't going to lose. There was simply no way he could. He ran like a cheetah, graceful and strong and powerful, yet somehow he seemed to be carried across the track on wings, weightless as a feather. It was mesmerizing to watch, almost unbelievable. 

Each time Lee passed the starting line, he sent another radiant smile in Gaara's direction, and each time he smiled, Gaara's stomach did a little flip. As Lee entered the final lap, a quiet fell over the stadium so loud Gaara's ears rang. He could hear his own heart like the heavy note of a low A on his piano, played over and over, as Lee passed him by and sent one final smile in his direction. 

Then he put on a burst of speed that sent him flying farther ahead of his competitors and teammates. The stadium erupted, chanting with a renewed vigor that reverberated through the metal bleachers of the stands. 

“HE'S GOT IT!” Naruto shouted.

By now everyone was on their feet, jumping and screaming, chanting and cheering. Even Gaara had gotten up, determined to watch Lee as he passed the finish line. A few runners determined to not be completely outdone, tried to catch up, but it was useless. Lee was too far ahead. 

And then, all in an instant, it was over. 

Lee had won. 

The sound of Konoha's supporters and students was so loud for a moment Gaara couldn't hear anything but white noise. The chanting died, replaced by something new, a song Gaara had heard once or twice at Lee's. 

_“We are the champions! My friends!”_

“You know, I take back what I said,” Kankurou said close to Gaara's ear. “Guess running is exciting.” He winked at Gaara before returning his attention to the track where the rest of the runners were finishing up. 

“Didn't I tell ya?” Tenten asked, leaning against Neji to glance back at Temari. “Lee's a rock star.” 

“No shit,” Temari said, impressed. “Is he goin' to Kage U?” 

Gaara froze, straining to listen to Tenten's answer over the singing crowd. 

“He hasn't decided yet. Money's kind of an issue, so he's hoping to land a scholarship.” 

Temari snorted. “The way he runs, there's not a school in the world who wouldn't want him.” 

Tenten grinned. “He's good, huh?” 

“Good?” Kankurou blurted, almost offended. “That's not good. That's mind-blowing.” 

Tenten raised an eyebrow. 

“He's Lee's number one fan,” Gaara deadpanned. “You didn't bring him flowers, by the way.” 

“Shaddup. I didn't think he'd actually like flowers.” 

Neji snorted. “You don't know Lee.” 

“Yeah, if you'd brought him flowers he'd have cried and then thrown himself on you and proclaimed you would share in the springtime of youth together. Such a beautiful bond of friendship!” Tenten said, raising a fist in imitation of Lee. 

“Do I want to know what that is?” Kankurou asked, wrinkling his nose. 

“It's Gai-sensei's teachings,” Neji explained. “He's honestly more dramatic than Lee, if you'll believe it.” 

Kankurou shook his head. “And what does it mean, exactly?” 

“Honestly, I have no idea.” 

At that moment, the voice from earlier returned, nearly shouting over the still singing crowd to be heard. 

“And, in typical Rock Lee fashion, the final event of the night goes to Lee who, has—unsurprisingly—beat his old record for the 3K race! His time was 7:20.09, which if I'm not mistaken is a—NEW—WORLD—RECORD!!!” 

If the crowd had been loud before, it was nothing to now. Gaara plugged his ears, searching for Lee who was standing with Maito Gai and the rest of his team, looking completely shell-shocked. A slow smile spread across his face before he let out a whoop of victory, tears falling freely. Gai threw his arms around Lee, crying as well, while the rest of the team cheered. 

“Holy shit! Lee!” Tenten cried, screeching her heart out in celebration. “Ugh, I wish we could go down there!” 

“Hurry up and do the awards already!!!” Kiba shouted. 

All of Lee's friends were eager to see him and not a single one of them sat down as the awards ceremony took place. Instead, they stood, throwing their arms over each other's shoulders and swaying side to side as they sang, horribly off-key. 

_“We are the champions! My friends! And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end!”_

Gaara was relieved to be between Kankurou and Temari, safe from being included in the swaying of the others. Though Kankurou happily joined in, he didn't throw his arm over Gaara's shoulder. 

It took another half an hour before they were able to leave the stands and make their way towards the benches where the team was congregating. Naruto, Tenten, Sakura, Ino, and Kiba raced over to Lee while screaming at the top of their lungs, piling onto him as one. 

“Holy shit, man!” 

“Language!” Gai said nearby, but he was still beaming proudly. 

“Ah, shi—I mean, sorry, Gai-sensei!” Kiba said. “That was amazing, Lee!” 

“Yeah, Gejimayu! A world record!” 

“You didn't tell us you were training for the Olympics, Lee!”

Lee laughed happily as everyone praised him, patting his back and giving him hugs, despite how sweaty he was. 

“Good job, Bowl-Cut!” Kankurou said, slapping Lee on the back with his good hand. He pulled it back, shaking it out. “Damn, what the hell are you made of? Bricks? Concrete? Rocks?” 

Lee had stopped listening to what Kankurou was saying though. He'd found Gaara. “Yes, of course,” he said absently, his smile so big and broad it looked like it physically hurt. “Absolutely.” 

“Uh. Huh.” Kankurou looked between the two of them. “I see.” 

Gaara gave Lee a small smile. “That was—really good.” 

It was paltry at best, but Lee's smile seemed to reach new levels nonetheless. “Thank you.” 

Gaara was at a loss for what else to say, but that restlessness from his last encounter with Lee resurfaced, like a beast opening its maw. He held his breath, staring at Lee as though that might bring about some clarity. Lee met his gaze, still smiling, an almost expectant look on his face. 

Gaara became acutely aware of his brother and sister watching them after a minute, and he quickly looked away. 

The world came rushing back. Lee's smile shifted, still as blinding as ever, but he looked lost, disappointed. Another slap across his back from Kiba, who immediately had to shake it out, had him turning away from Gaara, though his gaze lingered at the periphery, as though he shared that restless, unnameable feeling. 

“Lee!” Gai's booming voice interrupted them. “Where shall we celebrate your victory?” 

“Let's get milkshakes!” Naruto chimed. 

“We always do that!” 

“Let Lee pick! He's the one we're celebrating!” 

“Yeah! Lee, what do you want?” 

“Oh, I do not care as long as I get to celebrate with everyone!” 

“Then let's get milkshakes!” Naruto repeated. 

“How about we go someplace special,” Gai finally proclaimed. “Let's go to to The Curry of Life!” 

Despite having just participated in numerous running events, Lee somehow had enough energy to express his excitement by jumping up and down, shouting at the top of his lungs. 

“Then it's settled!” Gai said. “To The Curry of Life! But first, Lee, you must shower!” 

“Yeah, Lee, you stink!” Kiba said, shoving at Lee playfully. 

Lee's smile shrank as he pouted. “Forgive me, I will go shower right away!” 

“We'll meet you out front, Lee-san,” Sakura said, turning to everyone. “All right, Curry of Life is kinda far, so who wants to drive? We can all pile into a couple different cars.” 

“I will gladly take as many as I can fit in the minivan,” Gai said. “And it will be my treat to celebrate Lee's splendid performance tonight!” 

“Thank you, Gai-sensei,” everyone chimed. 

“Well, if a bunch of us go in the minivan, then we can take less cars.” 

“I think I'll head back to campus, actually,” Temari said, yawning. “I've got an essay to write, but you kids have fun. See you later, Shikamaru.” 

With Temari gone, that was one less car available for the drive to the restaurant. 

“We have a car,” Kankurou said. “But I have no idea where this place is.” 

“It's a bit of a drive,” Ino said. “It's outside of town by like an hour.” 

“Well, anyone's welcome to ride with me and—” Gaara stepped on Kankurou's foot, trying to get him to shut up. “Ow, what was that for?” 

“Sorry.” 

“So, minivan can fit six of us, plus Gai-sensei and Kakashi-sensei. But Lee's whole team will be there, too—or at least some of them. Why don't we split it between your car, Naruto's, and Ino's?” 

“Sounds good. Whoever wants to ride with the cool Suna kids can follow me. Text Gaara the address, yeah?” 

Gaara glared at Kankurou's back, but without any reason besides the fact that he wanted to ride with Lee, he fell into step beside his brother. 

“Just wait for us out front!” Sakura yelled after them. 

Kankurou snorted, shaking his head. “You got a nice bunch of friends,” he said, quiet and disbelieving. 

“I like them,” Gaara agreed. 

“Never thought I'd see the day, if I'm being honest.” 

“You and me both.” 

Kankurou ruffled Gaara's hair, a somber look on his face. “Lee's a good guy.” 

Gaara felt suddenly warm. “Yeah.” 

“I like him.” Kankurou sucked in a deep breath, then let it all out on a loud exhale. “I'm sorry, by the way. For—for freaking out about everything.” 

Gaara watched his brother from the corner of his eye as they walked, turning over the words and Kankurou's expression. He shook his head. “It's fine. I understand.” 

“Ahh!” Kankurou said, shaking himself. “Feelings. God, why do I have to be the one doin' this?” 

Gaara rolled his eyes. “The suffering you bear is great.” 

“Don't you forget it.” Kankurou's smile was still tinged with a sobriety that Gaara rarely ever saw on his brother's face, but whatever was on his mind he didn't want to share. Gaara was fine with that. He had his own restless feelings to sort out still, and his brother had never been particularly keen on sharing feelings before and they'd managed to get on just fine. 

Out in the parking lot, with the stadium lights no longer on them, it was cooler, less oppressive and surreal. The sun had mostly set during the running portion of the day's event, leaving a soft glow to the west while in the east the cool black of night began to fall. Everything that had happened in the stadium felt like a fever dream now, yet he couldn't get Lee's smile out of his head. 

He turned it over in his memory. Each successive smile, each successive lap, the moment he and Lee had made eye-contact and held it, the moment Lee had thanked him... 

Fifteen minutes later, Lee, his eleven teammates, his dads, and all of his friends joined Kankurou and Gaara out front. 

“All right, who wants to ride with me and my wonderful husband?” Gai asked. 

The entire track team raised their hands, then quickly started bickering over who was going to get to ride with their coach. 

“Wonderful! Fastest ones to the minivan can ride with us!” Everyone on Lee's team, except for Lee took off, with Gai running behind them, laughing his head off. Kakashi shook his head, smiling behind a medical mask as he meandered after Gai, Pakkun wheezing away in his bag.

“Right,” Sakura said, all business-like. “Lee, why don't you, Tenten, and Neji ride with Gaara and Kankurou? You guys have enough room in your car for five, right?” 

Kankurou shrugged. “'S'no problem.” 

“Great! Naruto, you can drive Sai and whoever doesn't make it into Gai-sensei's car.” 

“There's no way I can fit five people in my backseat!” 

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Obviously you'll just have to take three of them. Ino and I can take two. Hinata, do you wanna ride with us?” 

“O-okay,” Hinata agreed. 

“Aw, Hinata,” Kiba whined. “Drive with meee.” 

“You can take Shikamaru, Shino, and Chouji,” Sakura said. “I think that's settled then. Gaara, I'll text you the address of the place.” 

“All right,” Kankurou said. “Let's get some grub!” 

“Yosha!” Lee shouted in agreement. He caught Gaara's eye, smiling softly as they began their treck to Gaara's car. He immediately fell into step beside Gaara, his arm brushing Gaara's every so often. 

The restlessness that had settled over him seemed to diminish; the feeling in his chest warming to something like contentment. He sighed, smiling to himself, keeping pace with Lee, the back of his own hand brushing Lee's with every step he took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song ["A Kind of Magic" by Queen.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0p_1QSUsbsM) The song is also the one that is being listened to on the car ride to Gaara's. The songs referenced during the meet are We Will Rock You and We Are the Champions. 
> 
> Also, in case of any confusion, I did my best to set up an approximation of the Japanese school system instead of an American one, so the reason they're in school during summer is due to that, and also why in previous chapters it was mentioned that year everyone is in and they don't all match up. Obviously I don't have first hand experience, so this isn't like an exact replica. If you know better, of course, feel free to let me know!
> 
> And good news to everyone who loves this story: I have officially decided that there will be a sequel (and possible side stories), thus this is now part one of the Make Me Live series, the title of which comes from the Queen song ["You're My Best Friend"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wAsPu-FTBsw).


End file.
